The Cleaners Strike Back
by Aithion
Summary: They go without notice but they are always there... When things get rough, and when you think you can't fix your relationship problems, a friendly cleaner - like your guardian angel - will be there to help. Although come to think of it, there's no assurance that they actually know what they're doing...
1. Introductions

**A/N**: Hi! So this is my first dabble into the Primeval fanfiction universe. I'm not sure how this little story will be received, but hey, I think it's a pretty original concept! Hopefully my narrating OC will be likable too - I tried to make her fairly spunky and a little bit of a larrikan.

Let me know what you think and enjoy! :)

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I. Introductions

* * *

It is common knowledge that people see what they choose to see; notice what they choose to notice. As such, some people 'slip under the radar'; they manage to evade any attention being drawn to them whatsoever and go about their daily lives without any hint of recognition.

My name is Lark Sommerbush (yes, like the bird), old enough to know better, yet too young to resist and average...very average. I am most defiantly one of those people. I don't mind the lack of notice - rather enjoy it actually - so I'm not complaining, just explaining. People like me, choose jobs where we don't NEED to be noticed, we can go around without having to be accosted by unnecessary social interaction and expectation. I'm not saying I don't like a bit of human company, but I'd rather not be the focus of everyone attention.

That's why, being a cleaner is perfect for me. You hear, see, almost everything; you can observe people quietly and without incident, after all, you're just here to clean the bins. You stay late, get up early, get plenty of exercise (walking around from bin to bin), and have a sharp eye for detail (after all, how do you think the ARC got to be so shiny looking in the first place! Pure skill I assure you). Sometimes I thank the stars I have the perfect job.

Truthfully, working as a cleaner for the ARC, a government-and-private-sector-run secret organisation really does have it's advantages. I've been working here for four years, and watched from the sidelines as teams came and went. I cried with all the others when Stephen died, Nick and Sarah too.

Just like everyone else, I fervently hoped Abby, Connor and Danny would make it back, return from the anomalies unscathed. It took a year, but they managed it, the three of them were ok; although Danny, having personal problems (something to do with a crazy brother running round the ARC) decided to return through the anomalies.

The real problem at the ARC, in my, humble opinion, is that the people who work here are too caught up in the world of dangerous creatures and other nasty business to focus on the important things. Take Abby and Connor, it took them long enough to figure out their feelings for each other, although, thankfully, they got there in the end - even if it took a walk in the cretaceous to get them sorted out. Emily and Matt are sweet but so driven that they'll take quite a bit of work to get them on the right track; and don't even get me started on Jessica Parker and Hillary Becker (ok, so we snooped in personal files - it's not like it's that big of an issue; I mean seriously...).

Actually no, why not. We (aka the maintenance staff and cleaners) have been running a bet for the last year and a half on how long it would take Becker to cast off his detached attitude, and reveal what was happening behind those hazel eyes (especially in regards to a certain field coordinator). You can't blame people for trying.

My mate Marty, who cleans out the bins in the soldiers locker rooms, said he had overheard them talking about the time when Jess and Becker had diffused a bomb planted by Danny's brother (in my opinion those two really need to see a family counsellor). Apparently, the soldiers had burst into the room, and only just managed to catch a glimpse of them locked in an embrace before Becker tore away.

To add fuel to my fire, nearly every time there is a dangerous mission, I am left emptying bins with at least one (very large) chocolate wrapper in it. A certain man leaves a certain woman, a big block of chocolate to say 'you're brilliant' and 'thankyou for being a wonderful field coordinator - couldn't have done it without you'. One day, I expect Becker to actually just get to the point and pull the splinter that is his own ineptness from everyone else's side.

I thought he'd gotten his chance when I heard about 'The Beetle Incident' as it has been dubbed. Details are a little sketchy, but Jess, who is apparently allergic to insect bites, was, guess what, bitten. Becker decided to be very heroic and carry her all about the ARC, before racing to get her an epi-pen.

You would think, if the person he loved (albeit secretly), is on the verge of death, our dear captain would manage to get a few feelings out loud in the open. But no. Most definately not. John from IT said the man had managed to pass it off, going out to do some 'security stuff'. Said 'security stuff' apparently involves walking out to your 4x4 and spending the next hour and a half sitting in your front seat, head on the steering wheel (who knew cleaners could hack the CCTV feeds? It's amazing what this job involves).

For years, we, the maintenance staff have suffered! Unable to win (the now hefty) jackpot due to the inability of our team members to communicate! Unable to watch a good, old fashioned RomCom, without experience flashbacks of the sad story that is Becker and Jess! It cannot continue like this any longer! Quite frankly, I have had enough of this skipping around and avoiding the issue at hand. My particular skill-set, and connections with other fields places me in the perfect position to fix this...little problem (and win the pot). Operation 1: 'The cleaners strike back' (I watch WAY too much Star Wars) is now in force. So let us begin...


	2. Plotting

**A/N:** Let me firstly say, thankyou SO SO much to all of you that followed/favourited/reviewed this story. I was completely and utterly overwhelmed by the level of support I got in just one chapter/night and it made my day.

As a result, I managed to get a 2,000-odd word chapter, which is much longer than the last.

Still setting up a little bit here, introducing the rest of the OC cast (who all have fairly important roles) but from here on Lark's focus will be on getting Jesker happening ;)

Enjoy!

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II. Plotting

* * *

Yesterday, when I experienced my genius revelation, I mustn't have been thinking straight. After all, what is one cleaner going to be able to do to play matchmaker? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Two would be better. Or three. Nope. Five. There is only one way to undertake such a plan - enlisting minions to assist you. After all, I couldn't do it alone could I? The brains of the operation always needs minions to complete the plan.

Thankfully, I know just the people to undertake those roles. Walking into the Cleaners storage rooms late that night for the start of my shift I immediately spotted the dear people, my friends, who were the perfect candidates for such a task.

Marty Freeman, my best mate, was busy pulling on rubber gloves (poor sucker drew bathroom duty for a week) in the corner. He looked up when I walked in and gave me a wave before pulling a face at his roster (I am truly blessed to have friends that don't know when a roster's been rigged - after all, cleaning toilets?! Disgusting. I draw the line.).

John Arnold had seemingly just sat down and begun doing something on his laptop. I swear, that man carries that thing around with him everywhere - probably hoping that maybe someday, someone will notice the person who cleans the IT rooms is actually good with computers and he'll get promoted from cleaner to staff (however unlikely that may be).

Thatcher Harding, dear, dear Thatcher, blonde hair sticking up all over the place, (seriously, the man is a hunk - how he managed to remain unnoticed and wasn't hired as a supermodel is beyond me) was setting up the bins, ready for us to get started (luckily the levels we're assigned to - mainly the ADD level - aren't too hard, nor require much of a thought process). Just looking at those toned muscles from using the gym equipment (which he was supposed to have been cleaning) for the last few years makes me - Stop. Let's not go there.

The last one who flounced into the room behind me, was Penny Cardly, black hair bouncing and swinging immaculately behind her. I nearly choked and gagged as she passed me - the smell of her perfume was so strong. But then again, I guess you want to have a strong-smelling perfume if you're laundering overalls from the menagerie workers and sweaty soldiers all night. You wouldn't really want those smells rubbing off on you would you? Yuck.

"What have we got today guys?" I asked, rather bored by the whole proceedings that John had insisted we implement when we had first started working together. Four years later and we still had to follow the stupid procedure - don't ask me why.

Not surprisingly, Thatcher was the one to answer, seeing as John was intent on his laptop, Penny was buried under a mound of washing and Marty had chosen the opportune moment to shove half a sandwich in his mouth (even though he still had his gloves on - which is quite disgusting really).

"Marty's on bathrooms, Penny's got to wash the training uniforms - the new recruits played paintball today and you can guess how that went," Thatcher drawled, crossing the tasks off his fingers, "Apparently, it was that weird-looking guy from IT's birthday on Monday and no-one remembered so they threw him a consolatory party at lunch today in the IT room's - John's on that. You and I are on bins."

"What, where, who said my name." John looked up, dragging himself away from the computer for a moment and blinking slowly when he noticed me (the guy looks like a stoned owl with his magnified glasses on - seriously). "Oh, hi Lark. Do you want to look at this? I was just going over today's CCTV feeds and it looks like there was a particularly juicy fail in the practice rooms."

One thing you should know about us, is that the five of us have a sick sense of humor. We take great delight in noticing the epic failures of our employees and higher-up staff; especially when they don't realise it (this does of course include a lot of sniggering, and late-night checks of the daily CCTV feeds courtesy of John).

We notice everything. Jess, the best field-coordinator is pretty brilliant, but even she has more important things to do than to analyse every minute of footage from the day (John however, doesn't).

We knew, before everyone else did, that Abby proposed to Connor; we knew that Phillip was having more than a few secret phone calls and meetings with Connor about the anomalies before convergence.

We saw it, when early one morning, Becker spilt a cup of coffee on his pants and had to race down to the locker rooms before anyone else came in and change into a spare pair of trousers he had in his locker (Penny and I replayed that particular segment for weeks afterwards - focusing on the part where he went hopping around the room in his underwear).

We know where Lester keeps his secret supply of whiskey. Marty has assured us - through experience - that it's of the highest quality (well at least, that's what we think he said, it was rather slurred at the time). You might call it nosey, but we call it enlightened.

Of course, knowing about everything doesn't really mean a thing. We swore, both legally, when we took the job as cleaners at the ARC and in friendship when we realised the potential for the abuse of the power we have; that whatever we did in our storage room, would never be heard about by any others outside, or within the the ARC. It was just the five of us.

John's tidbit of the day was certainly enjoyable. One of the newer recruits had managed to completely miss his target sending an EMD blast ricochetting around the room. Apparently, he was distracted by a rather pretty tech walking past the glass viewing screen. The CCTV footage showed soldiers running everywhere ducking the electricity bolt (Becker among them) and diving for cover.

The whole scene had the five of us sniggering, even as we prepared to begin our tasks. The ARC was always attended to by at least one team, after all, anomalies didn't sleep and could pop up at any time; so we weren't quite alone when our shifts began at 11PM and finished at 4:40; but pretty much so.

"My minions, I have a proposition for you!" I said, tugging my overalls over my head.

"Minions?" Penny said, wrinkling her nose.

"Yeh why are we YOUR minions?" John asked with a frown, "Why can't you all be MY minions?"

I rolled my eyes at the comment, "Because John, you don't have nearly as productive organisational skills as I do; and besides," I added, (feeling the need to be imperious and quell this rebellion for good); "You don't even know my proposition, you might not have the balls to undertake such a mission."

Thatcher snorted and John glared at me in reply. "Well what is this proposition then Lark? Come on, spit it out already," Marty spoke up, easing the tension a little as he lifted up the toilet cleaner in his hand and pointed it at me, brown eyes laughing, "because you know, I have things to do, places to go, toilets to clean..."

"Yeh, yeh," I scoffed, waving my hand in dismissal before propping myself up against a nearby bench, "Okay, well just recently, it came to my mind the amount of money that's just languishing in the 'Jesker' maintenance pot. I'm not exactly sure how much-"

"£875.50." John interjected helpfully, coping a glare from me at the interruption as he pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose.

"Thank you John," Thatcher said sarcastically.

"You're most welcome Thatcher." John said, obviously quite pleased with himself. It's painfully evident sarcasm isn't the man's strong suit (and he wonders why he'll never get noticed or promoted to a tech!).

Just as Thatcher was about to reply with no doubt, some snide comment, I cleared my throat impatiently, we had already managed to digress from the topic and we hadn't even managed to get down to business yet. Typical. "Anyway, as I was saying before I was interrupted," I said, shooting a pointed glare at the bespectacled man, "there is a LARGE amount of money in there, and I think...we could win it."

I waited for my words to sink in, which they did (albeit slowly...) and noted with some satisfaction the contemplative looks on the faces of my friends and compatriots.

"Are you saying we should try and rig it so that we are the catalyst for Becker and Jess to admit their feelings to one another?" Marty said slowly (as usual, the first to catch onto one of my brilliant schemes).

I beamed at him in reply. "Exactly!" I crowed happily. At least someone understood me! Penny on the other hand was looking a little confused...

"Erm, but isn't that cheating?" Penny asked.

I shook my head emphatically, I had already considered this and come up with the answer, "Nope, after all, there were no rules in place to say whether or not anyone could give them a 'bump' in the right direction," I said, looking around at my colleagues, (who I could see were slowly coming round to the idea) with a grin, "The rules only stipulate that the person who guesses closest to the date wins the pot. So are you in?"

"£875.50 split five ways? I don't know about you guys, but I could do with the extra money." Thatcher said with a shrug, the corner of his lips quirking in a smile as he leaned back in his chair, "I'm in."

It didn't take long for the others to cave into the idea after Thatcher agreed, and slowly, they began to warm to it even more.

"Well what are we going to do to give them the nudge then?" Marty asked contemplatively, "It's not like we can be conspicuous about it, we hardly see them, and I'm not sure they even know we exist!"

"Could we create some kind of 'end-of-the-world' situation to try and get them to admit their feelings for one another?" Penny offered, frowning in concentration (thinking really was not her strong suit at times).

"Well the world has already threatened to end with convergence and they did nothing," Thatcher drawled, rolling his eyes with a huff, "so it's not very likely Becker'd make a move for that."

"Not to mention the fact that we have absolutely no means of creating an, as you put it, 'end-of-the-world experience'," I remarked dryly, "without attracting some kind of attention, and I prefer going through my life fairly unnoticed thank you very much!"

Silence echoed around the room for a moment, before John cleared his throat awkwardly, "Well could we somehow design a way to get them alone together at least?" he said hurriedly, continuing as the rest of us looked at him, "Early in the morning maybe, or late at night, when basically no-one else is around? Give them something to talk about?"

I frowned in contemplation as I considered the idea, in fact (amazingly), it wasn't a bad one at all. "Not bad John. See, that's why you're a minion!" I said, shooting him (what was hopefully) a dazzling smile, "Now we just need to figure out a place where the two of them would definitely meet up, at morning and/or night; where they are also likely to be alone-"

"The locker rooms." My minions all chimed in one voice.

"Ahh! You guys! I couldn't have asked for better compatriots." I said fondly, slipping off the desk, "You can brainstorm in your head as we work, and then we can discuss our ideas here in our break - NOT beforehand, we don't need anyone catching on to our little operation."

"Right. You're right. We can do this." Penny said, more to herself than the rest of us I think. She glanced over to me and smiled, letting out a short squeal of excitement that had the men reeling, "Oh this is so wonderful and romantic! I feel like a real matchmaker!" she said happily, "After we've done these two - and I just know we're going to succeed; we should do it again, or maybe I should just take it up in my own time..."

I laughed quietly to myself as she continued to blabber on about all the matches she was going to make, and the guys slowly edged away from her, looking rather uncomfortable. "Look what you've done!" Thatcher whispered comically to me as we collected our bins and headed for the door, "You've created a monster!"

I only snorted in reply. So, maybe I had, but it was going to be well worth it if it meant this venture would be successful. For the money and the peace of mind. It was about time Jess and Becker got their butts into gear.


	3. Execution

**A/N:** Hey guys! Thanks so much to all of you that reviewed/followed/favourited! Made me so pleased!

Okay, so I was watching several Primeval: Jesker videos just to see how the pair interact - reading facial expressions and all that (because I was too lazy to go back and watch the series again :P), and I found one video, but more importantly I found the song that accompanied it. It's called 'Here For You Now' by Lesley Roy and it really spoke to me for Jess and Becker. So I have decided, in my infinite wisdom, that it shall be this fic's them song (even if this story is really from the viewpoint of my OC).

Little tiny bit of direct Becker/Jess interaction here.

Enjoy!

* * *

Oh. My. God. I was standing in a dark corner of the ARC, kissing Thatcher Harding - known god and supermodel. No doubt being caught on CCTV. What the hell was I thinking?

Rewind.

Before you say 'what on earth just happened?', I can explain. No, really, I can. There is a completely logical and reasonable explanation as to how and why I managed to lock lips with one of the most attractive cleaners working at the ARC.

Yesterday, we had all carefully concocted our plan during break times in the storage rooms; meticulously designing timing, process, tasks and code names (after all, what's a covert operation without code names?) necessary to the completion of Operation Cleanup.

By the time we all arrived at work for our next shift later that night, the five of us were all buzzing with excitement and nervousness at the enormity of the task we were to undertake. You think creatures are a problem? You've obviously never had to endure a work environment full to the brim of unresolved pining.

Anyway, we went about our duties as best as we could, keeping in mind the fact that we were only a few hours away from attempting the most important matchmaking stunt in history (no exaggeration there). For the record, there were only three bin spills between Thatcher and I both, Penny only rewashed the same load of washing twice, and I won't even go into John and Marty (if you want to know how he got so wet - ask him yourself - I take no responsibility for the consequences of your actions). If anyone tells you otherwise, they are exaggerating and are grossly misinformed.

At 04:25 hours, nearing the end of our shift, we all put on our comms (helpfully supplied by John) and headed out to our positions. "Right everyone, how this pans out may just change both our lives, and Jesker's, hopefully for the better." I said, adjusting my earpiece as I walked, "John, are you in position?"

"Copy Lark, I am in position." Johns voice crackled back over the radio in my ear from his place at his laptop.

"Thatcher, Penny, Marty?" I continued, focusing on the rest of my team.

"Yes Lark, in position." my minions chorused as one, making my mouth quirk into a smile. Sometimes I really couldn't believe my luck in finding such amazing friends. And so it began...

• • •

_Becker walked into the ARC at his usual time that morning and headed straight for the locker rooms. As usual, he was there early enough to realise that several of the cleaners were still in, walking around in their blue overalls. He nodded to each one he passed, but didn't really pay them much attention, his mind turning through the tasks of the day._

_When he arrived at his destination, another one of the cleaners was in there also, pulling rubbish from a bin and Becker frowned a little, wondering why so many of them were still here. Normally there would only be at most one, racing out of the ARC and into the carpark before the rest of the everyday staff came it. So far, the female cleaner in front of him included, he'd seen four._

_As soon as the thought crossed his mind, he dismissed it as unimportant, they'd probably just been running late for their shifts or something. The cleaning department was really none of his concern anyway._

_Becker had only been at his locker for at most five minutes when he heard the familiar clickity-clack of four-inch heels. "Morning Becker!" Jess said, rounding the corner and spotting him, giving him one of her radiant smiles. "Didn't expect you to be here so early!"_

_"Jess," Becker said seriously, keeping the smile that threatened to burst forth under locks and raising his eyebrow. "I'm here at this time every morning."_

_The field-coordinator stared back at him with big blue eyes, as she smiled sheepishly and went to her locker. "Oh, well, yes, I guess you are then." she said, rifling through it's contents, "Never-mind, I'm probably just in need of some coffee this morning. I might go and get some. Do you want some? Coffee I mean. Or are you more of a tea person? You are aren't you? Do you want some-"_

_"Jessica." Becker said, leaning back against his own locker, and folding his arms over his chest. He cocked his head and watched in silent amusement as the woman in front of him turned bright red. _

_"Rambling?" she winced, twisting her hands in front of her._

_Silently, he nodded, the smirk that had been threatening to expose itself for the last few minutes slowly spreading across his face._

_Pursing her lips, Jess turned back to her locker and began muttering under her breath. Suddenly the muttering stopped and she turned back to him, "Have you seen my comms set? I thought I put it in my locker." she said, confused._

_"No sorry, can't help Jess," Becker replied, shaking his head with a frown, "Maybe you left it somewhere?"_

_"No. I could have sworn I put it in my locker, but oh well, I'll just grab one of the spares." she murmured, more to herself than to him. With that she absentmindedly went to the comm store room, flicking her wristband over the keyboard and pushing inside, the door closing with a loud vacum-click behind her._

_Not two minutes later Becker was disturbed but the sound of the door of the storeroom rattling terribly, before Jess let out a yell for help, telling him the door wasn't open and she was stuck. Immediately he was there, slamming his fists against the door as he tried push it open._

• • •

"Ok John, what's happening in there?" I asked through the comms, heading back down the corridor to the ADD.

"Ahhh, well I guess it's going to plan. He's trying to get in, but the lock's holding..." John said rather uncomfortably, "Look Lark, I'm not sure this is such a good idea. It seems pretty cruel, now that I think about it."

I was silent for a moment, weighing up my options before answering, "Look John, sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind." I sighed, feeling more than a little bad for what we were doing to the pair, but not quite enough to give up yet. "Everything is alright though? No unseen complications?"

"No - wait...crap, Matt just arrived and he's headed right for you." John said, the anxiousness in his voice clear over the radio, "Everyone else is out except you and Thatcher, get him and get out. I would really rather not get caught and have to explain myself to a fuming Becker, Lark!"

Forcing myself to be calm, I sped up, "Where's Thatcher, John?" I asked nervously, heading in the direction ADD, leading out to the lifts to the carpark.

"He should be...he's coming now Lark, to your left." came the reply.

"Thatcher! What are you doing!" I snapped, a little more sharply than I had intended in my concern regarding the state of our hides after this attempt, "Come ON. Let's go!"

"Right. Coming dear!" Thatcher said, a little too cheerfully for my liking as he adjusted his course to the same direction as me. "Had a little problem unlocking the staircase door. John you don't think the glitch you set in affects all the doors do you?"

"Uhh...I don't think so...possibly." was the answer, and immediately my blood pressure shot up.

"WHAT!" I screeched, before realising just how loud I was and lowering the volume once more, "You told me you were 100% certain you could isolate the glitch to one room and door." I hissed, "What the hell John?! Does that mean that we might be stuck in here because the next door in the corridor might not open!?"

Thatcher suddenly grabbed my arm and pulled me to a stop, "Don't panic. Everything'll be fine. I'm sure John's got it covered. Don't you John?" he said, receiving some sort of mumbled, incoherent response in reply from the man on the other side of the comms. "See Lark? No need to worry."

"Several lab technicians have just entered the lifts." came Marty's voice from his place in the garage.

"And Connor and Abby are just pulling up at the boom gates." Penny supplied as well.

I glared at the man beside me, setting off once more, "Does that sound like a whole lot of somethings WE don't need to worry about?! We'll be lucky if we make it out of here intact!" I growled as Thatcher easily caught up and strode along beside me. "John. Abort the mission. Remove the glitch. We've failed...and miserably too."

"Ok. Copy Lark. Mission aborted, Jess's out...Uhhh guys, you might want to know that Matt is just about to turn the corner on the two of you!" John said frantically.

All cohesive thought left my brain in that movement, just up ahead I could see half a body round the corner, and just before the main team leader Matt came into full view, I was jerked to the side and pushed into the shadows. I barely had time to think let alone react when Thatcher Harding's lips descended on my own and stole my breath away.

Literally.

Oh. My. God. I was standing in a dark corner of the ARC, kissing Thatcher Harding - known god and supermodel. No doubt being caught on CCTV. What the hell was he _thinking_? What was _I_ thinking? Oh stuff it, it's not like I'd ever get another chance, so why not?

With that, I slipped my arms over his shoulders and kissed him right back. Savouring the moment before sure hell would descend.


	4. Miscalculation

**A/N:** Howdy! Well I am just beginning to realise the issues with writing in 1st person...I normally write in 3rd. I am beginning to hate the word 'I' :P Hopefully everyone is in character for this chapter - it's my first time consciously writing everyone :)

Thank you so much to all you lovely reviewers/followers/favouriters, and especially to **SandyLee Potts** for pointing out something which I am still face-palming myself about and am too embarrassed to relate to you all. So THANK YOU!

Also, inspired, I have uploaded links to image of people I see portraying my OC's - peruse at your initiative m'dears!

On a side note for this chapter - I dare any man to tell me that leather boots are satisfactory protection from 4-inch heels!

Enjoy!

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IV. Miscalculations

* * *

Sometimes, I find it's all too easy to get yourself into a situation you aren't expecting and have no means to plan for. You find yourself, in that moment, experiencing something you have no idea how to cope with, and it shows. It can affect how you act, how you eat, the way you talk, everything. When we don't know what we're doing, I think our body instinctually decides for us; sometimes for the better...but sometimes not.

• • •

_"Jess, are you alright?" Becker asked in concern as soon as he managed to push the door open. He couldn't be sure, but he thought he'd heard a click before he pushed it, signaling it was unlocked. As soon as he noticed the woman teetering on her heels in the middle of the storeroom, he went to her. He couldn't help it. Whenever she needed him, he would be there to help her. _

_"I'm fine Becker, I was only locked in the cupboard," Jess smiled a little unsteadily, but did not move out of his grasp, "must have been a glitch in the systems or something."_

_Becker frowned, refusing to move away as well, after all, he couldn't be 100% sure she was alright, "I'll have a talk with the maintenance staff - see what they can tell us about it." he murmured thoughtfully, more than a little annoyed._

_Jess shook her head, giving him a smile, "No, that's alright, the doors are linked to a computing system I can talk to the technicians - afraid the maintenance staff won't be much help if you were to ask them anyway." suddenly, several voices sounded outside the little room they were in and the field-coordinator realised just where they were standing, "Erm we're in a cupboard."_

_"Really Jess? I hadn't noticed." Becker said with a smirk, pulling away a little; satisfied Jessica was all right, yet not quite willing to move away completely._

_"Well you should be more observant then Becker." Jess said primly as she tried to step past him with a wicked smirk. Although she was undoubtedly brilliant, the field coordinator was...not the most coordinated (Ironically). As she tried to slip around the large Captain, Jess miscalculated the distance and as such, a spikey four-inch heel landed on a booted foot. _

_The effect was instantaneous. Becker let out a yelp (quite uncharacteristic of him), stepping back and hitting the shelving cupboards, making them and the objects within roll noisily. Losing her balance, Jess fell right against him, almost sliding to the ground before two strong hands managed to grab her under her arms. Stopping her before she fell completely to the floor. "Gods, Jessica!" Becker groaned, still leaning heavily against the cabinets, "You're bloody lethal!"_

_It was then that the door opened. The pair managed to catch a glimpse of a surprised Connor, before the door slammed shut once more. Blushing furiously and only imagining how terrible it must have looked, the two got to their feet, straightening themselves up as they went._

_Slowly, Becker opened the door and Jess stepped out in front of him, all too aware of what they would see. Matt, Connor, and Abby were standing in the center of the room, arms crossed, and smirks plastered on their faces watching them._

_"We...erm..got..yeh..we got stuck...well, I got stuck in the cupboard" Jess blurted instantly, blushing crimson "and Becker gave me a hand, I mean-"_

_"Really, really don't need to know Jess." Connor interjected, holding up her hand for the younger woman to stop._

_"We can see that." Abby smirked, her smoky blue eyes flickering to Captain Becker. "About time."_

_Becker glared at the blonde woman, "Yes well if you don't mind, I've got better things to do today day than standing here talking to you about nonsense." he said airily, stalking towards the exit. _

_"You mean, like security stuff?" Matt smirked just as the other man was about to walk out the door. The question had the desired effect as Becker turned and sent an annoyed look flying over his shoulder before stepping outside._

_Connor snorted and shook his head as Jess blushed, running (well a form of running - after all, she was in heels) after the other man out to the ADD, muttering her excuses to the others. "Well, that was...interesting." the younger man said. The three team members left in the room looked at one another for a moment before bursting into laughter._

• • •

It only took a moment for Matt, the main team leader, to notice us as he walked past. I mean, it's not exactly like we we're invisible, standing in the corner of the hall snogging. Oh boy.

As much as I wanted to, I couldn't really lose myself into kissing Thatcher. I don't even know why he decided it was necessary, although I'm beginning to get a fairly good idea, even if I can't quite maintain a cohesive stream of thought...

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the Irishman walk past us, then stop and turn, his eyebrows shooting into his hairline. Through half-closed eyes, I could still make out his bemused expression as he cleared his throat awkwardly.

Abashed, I pulled away, my heart beating faster than I had ever thought possible. "I...erm..he...we..." I stuttered, sure I looked like a cherry tomato, "Good morning." With that, I made a break for it, tugging the supermodel behind me as I all but ran out of the ARC, ducking past Abby and Connor on the way. (Not that they recognised me - they probably just assumed I was some red-faced weird woman running around the ARC).

I was still racing by the time I to get to the underground carpark, dragging Thatcher along. When I got to my car, I stopped. To say I'm mad is an understatement. More like, furious. I couldn't believe what he had just done. "What the hell was that Thatcher?" I snarled, rounding on him, and giving him a firm poke in the chest. "What exactly did you think you were doing hmmm?"

The prat even had the indecency to look surprised! "Well I thought I was saving our arse's. It worked didn't it?" he said, blue eyes wide and piercing as they looked straight at me. "Lark?"

I was saved from answering by Penny and Marty who raced over to us. "You got out!" Marty said happily, nudging Penny all to conspirationally for my liking, "Told you. Well, that could have definitely gone worse."

"Damn right it could have. Where's John?" I muttered, pulling my car-keys from my pocket and jingling them in my hands. "Isn't he supposed to be here?."

"He had to go. Said he had a train to catch." Penny replied, wrinkling her nose. "He kind of looked like the bats from hell were on his tail."

Thatcher smirked, "Well thankfully I don't see Becker anywhere so it looks like we're good." he said, rolling his shoulders, and rubbing a palm over the back of his neck. I decided now was a good time to shift my glare up from my feet to the supermodel in front of me. At least now he looked a little guilty, "Anyone up for breakfast?"

_"_Oooo yes please!_" _Penny smiled happily, linking an arm with Thatcher and I (much to my discomfort), "I know a great little café on Bond Street. Do you want to go there? Lark?"

Oh yes, now I had absolutely no choice. This could not get any more awkward. "Sure, why not." I grumbled. "Not really hungry, but I guess I could use a sugar rush. My head is killing me."

"Oh? Well should you be driving?" Penny asked, her brown eyes concerned. "Do you want one of us to drive you?"

Tiredly I passed a hand over my face, "No, I'm fine." I smiled in what I hoped was a cheerful way at the others, turning back to my car and hearing the cheerful bleep as I unlocked it and slid into the drivers seat, (at least someone was glad to see me and didn't do ridiculous, inconceivable things!) "I'll meet you there."

Oh boy. This was really no going my way.


	5. Sweet and Sour

A/N: Right, so this chapter is all cleaner-orientated, it really was being very stubborn with me today and hard to get out. But I have a feeling all of next chapter or 95% of it will be Jesker so hopefully ya'll can live till then! :)

Thanks so much to all of you that have been so faithfully reviewing! Your support guys is what keeps me churning out chapters :)

Enjoy!

* * *

V. Sweet and Sour

* * *

"I'll get a Devonshire tea please." I smiled at the waitress (who was far too perky for my liking for this time in the morning).

Penny had dragged us all down to the little café she was talking about (both willingly and unwillingly), and the four of us sat in awkward silence for a few moments before Marty came in with the perfect icebreaker (because the tension between was so cold, you would need an ice pick to break it...literally).

"So...how did you guys manage to slip past Matt and the others?"

Ok. Maybe not.

This was a record. The witty, always ready with a come-back Lark Sommerbush was without a cohesive reply...more than twice in one day. What kind of nightmare was this? "I...erm...we...Thatcher distracted them." I managed to somehow mumble pathetically in response. I'm doomed.

"Really?" Penny asked, delightedly surprised, "Never knew you were one for inventing plans Thatcher!" she teased, "Always thought you were more the 'yes ma'am', follow orders, type."

I risked a glance at said sheep who just so happened to have his eyebrow quirked endearingly. "Well, I have my moments Penny." he smirked, shooting a glance at me with which I could only return with a glare.

"I think we'll need to have a little chat with John about his hasty retreat from the scene." I said quickly, more than happy to steer the topic of conversation away from the path it was going. "Also, we'll need to count our losses and figure out a more tailored form of attack for the next plan."

"Always back on track," Marty mumbled, shooting a mock-frown in my direction, "Don't you ever take a break from your job? Oh wait, that was a silly question. Of course you do!"

"After all, don't forget this is Lark we're talking about Marty." Thatcher joined in, leaning closer as sky blue eyes turned on me, "Lark never does things by halves. Do you?"

I know I should probably be more polite, but I'm still in a bad mood from our less-than-successful plan this morning. Not to mention mad at the certain someone who did a certain something and took certain liberties of which I was not completely willing. (Ok I was more than willing, but no-one has to know that). "If by that you mean I take great pride in my work then no. I never do things by halves, and I'm not sure you should be criticising Mr. Harding."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" He actually looked a little offended, but to tell you the truth I don't really care just at the moment.

"Well this is getting awkward." Penny whispered to Marty, inching away from Thatcher and I (not that I really noticed, I was too busy shooting a dangerous look across the table at said cleaner). The pair of them made some sort of excuse - something about going and getting our orders - to slip away, but I was not paying any attention.

"I'm merely pointing out for example, that if you spent half as much time actually cleaning the gym equipment, as you did using it - there would be less work for the rest of us." I said, surprising myself with my coldness. Ice-queen here I come.

Thatchers eyebrows shot up into his hairline and he leaned back, away from me, "Oh so you're criticising my work ethic now Lark?" he said incredulously, eyes sparkling dangerously. He has such lovely eyes- No. I'm supposed to be still mad at him.

"Constructive criticism I assure you Thatcher." I sniffed, looking down my nose at him (a technique I learned from my grandmother).

Thatcher smiled snarkily at me. "How thoughtful of you Lark! Do you mind if I give you some constructive criticism then?" Hell, even his voice was gorgeous.

"If you find it absolutely necessary then I guess I could relegate myself to listening to your opinion." I drawled, waving my hand in an imperious fashion. Quite frankly, I think I'm doing rather well in the circumstances, after all, I'm keeping the part of me that wants to revisit our little scene in the ARC under control aren't I?

"Stop being so uptight." he said, eyes narrowing.

Ok. I was not expecting that. "Excuse me? Uptight?" I growled, leaning forward into what could naturally be considered a threatening pose (not that I'm particularly threatening...at all.) "Who are you calling uptight?"

"You obviously Lark." Obviously noting my expression, Thatcher rolled his eyes, leaning forward as well, "Stop playing around. What's your problem?"

HA! The cheek of the man! Who the hell did he think he was? "My problem? What's your problem?" I snarled, more than a little gobsmacked. Insinuating I had a problem when obviously, HE was the one with the issues!

"My problem? We're talking about you Sommerbush! You're the one who's acting so snappy!" Thatcher said incredulously (what he has to be incredulous about is beyond me).

"Well maybe if you didn't go around just randomly kissing people I wouldn't be acting so snappy!" Ok this was not good. He was reducing me to a high-pitched, shrieking wreck. Abort mission! Abort mission! "What makes you think you have the right to just do that?!"

Thatcher shook his head, running his hand through his hair. Such lovely hair- Really need to stop thinking like that. "That's what this is about!? Jeeez Lark! I only did it so Matt wouldn't get suspicious!"

"That still doesn't mean you should have done it!" I replied stubbornly. Must think logically. No emotion. Detach yourself Lark!

"Is it really such a horrible thought? Me kissing you?" his voice had gone flat, and I hate to say it but the guilt was creeping up on me.

"Yes! No...I mean...That's not the point! The point is I'm not the type of person who just randomly gets snogged in front of other people." Oh great, now he had me all insecure. Why is this happening to me? What did I ever do to deserve this?! All I ever wanted was to get two people who were oblivious of their feelings for one another together! I sighed, shifting in the armchair uncomfortably, "I'm not...comfortable with it."

I dared to look up and all I could see was Thatcher staring up at me with an unfathomable look on his face, I couldn't help it, I had to look away. What a coward. "It was not my intention to make you uncomfortable Lark. I apologise." Holy. Did he just apologise? I must have been dreaming. No. Nope it was an apology. History has been made!...and didn't it just make me feel worse that I was the one he was apologising to...

"It's alright Thatcher" I pushed a smile onto my face, "I overreacted, I apologise too," What? Ok...yes that's true, I won't be a wimp and not admit it to him and myself. "Look I'm really tired, I think I'll just go home now, I'll see you tomorrow yeh?"

A shy smile was all I received in reply, before the cocky grin replaced it just as quickly as it had come, making me almost doubt that I had seen it at all. The man was a gentleman, I had to admit that. Thatcher stood up when I did and walked me to the door of the café. It was only just when I was about to step outside that he stopped me, leaned close and whispered something in my ear.

Pulling away sharply I threw one of my worst death stares, feeling the crimson flush across my cheeks. "You...you...I...you...Thatcher Harding I withdraw my apology!" I spluttered, before stalking stiffly to my car and driving hastily away.

As I drove, I could still feel his lips pressed against my ear and the words he said kept repeating themselves in my brain.

"Don't know why I apologised though, after all, you did kiss me back. Rather enthusiastically too if I recall."

I'm doomed.


	6. Apples

**A/N:** Hi guys! Thanks for all your reviews! They make me so happy! Keep them coming, they make me write faster! :D

* * *

VI. Apples

* * *

With a huff, I stomped up the stairs to the front door of a small terrace house. I had never liked the silver door knocker I decided as I snapped it against the door a few times. I could hear the key turning in the lock before it opened a peep and a magnified eye appeared in the crack.

"You and I need to have a little chat." I said perfectly calmly. I learned a while ago that if you sound sure of yourself, then people are more likely to do as you say (another tidbit from granny).

The eye blinked owlishly, before the door closed and I heard the sound of a chain rattling across the door. It opened and a very abashed John stood there, ushering me inside.

• • •

_Jess was busy doing protocol checks on the ADD, thinking perhaps that it was for the best that she try and forget about what had happened that morning; when she saw Becker out of the corner of her eye. Usually Becker kept his distance after she did something odd; even when she had had an allergic reaction to the beetles that invaded the ARC, he'd kept his distance afterwards. _

_A little surprised that he had made an appearance, Jess turned and smiled at him. "Hello, what are you doing in here?" she asked cheerfully (although she still felt a little guilty about his foot). _

_"Just got to collect a couple of files." Becker replied, making his way over to the ADD and scanning the screens in front of her (of course, Jess was doing some covert scanning of her own, although of a completely different medium). "No anomalies then?"_

_Jess shook her head, "Not a peep, it's really weird actually," she said, pursing her lips slightly, "Haven't had one in several days, do you think convergence could have anything to do with that?"_

_Becker shrugged, frowning at the digital map in front of him, "Not a clue, could do though." _

_"Becker, look, I just wanted to apologise about this morning-" Jess was cut off before she could finish when the captain held up his hand._

_"No need to apologise Jess, it wasn't your fault," Becker said with a concerned frown, "Which reminds me, have you had a talk with the technicians yet?" _

_"Not yet, I'll be going as soon as I finish this scan." she replied, "Might take a while, but I'll be done soon enough." Becker nodded but didn't move, and so Jess took her opportunity to continue with her previous appreciation from the corner of her eye._

_Suddenly, Jess' scanning was interrupted by a (very masculine) had presenting her a juicy-looking, red apple. "Apple?"_

_She wrinkled her nose and slid a little further away, the wheels of her chair clicking. "Uhhhh no thanks, I don't like apples. But thanks anyway." Jess added quickly, hoping she hadn't come across as rude._

_"Why not? They're good for you." Becker replied with a smirk, biting off a large chunk and chewing slowly, eyes trained on her. _

_The fact that Becker was standing in front of her, eating an apple - more to the point; biting, chewing, then sucking out more of the juice - was making her brain go into overdrive. "I...I've never liked them really, just a thing I've had about them since I was a kid. Y'know, like Snow White. Got poisoned with an apple."_

_Jess's eyes went round as Becker coughed and spluttered, doubling over as he choked on his apple. "Becker? Are you alright?!"__she asked in concern, half rising out of the ADD chair._

_"Jess, please tell me you did just not say you don't eat apples because Snow White got poisoned with an apple..." Becker managed to croak, stepping away and resting a hand on the ADD._

_The field coordinator looked at her captain in confusion. "Yes I did just say that."_

_Becker seemed to be having an internal war with himself as he struggled to control his features, "What about porridge?" he choked out, before clearing his throat and straightening his features, one eyebrow lifting, "Do you like porridge?"_

_"Porridge? What does that have to do with anything?" Jess asked becoming more and more confused with every passing second._

_Becker smirked and cocked his head, leaning nonchalantly against the ADD, "Oh you know, after all Goldilocks ate porridge, too hot, too cold, that sort of thing." he said waving his hand airily, before straightening up and leaning closer conspiratorially. Jess simply glared, and turned back to the ADD, nose righteously pointed in the air. "Oh, what about beans? Wait, radishes? Bread? We already know chocolate's been ruled out of your dislike-list, but what about gingerbread?"_

_Becker grinned in triumph, watching as the field coordinator continued to pointedly ignore him. Willing to push it a little further, he leaned closer and pressed his lips near to her ear, "Well luckily, I do know you like chinese food."_

_"What's that supposed to mean?" Jess asked, her lips pursed and eyes narrowed as she turned on the smirking captain, only a few inches away from her. Becker had just opened his mouth and was about to reply when they were interrupted by a seemingly annoyed head of the ARC_

_"How many times have I had to tell you people, no snacking in the ADD room! Where do you think you are? In some low budget real estate company? Get back to work!" Lester called from his balcony irritably, "You think people would learn."_

_Jess rolled her eyes as Becker smiled and made his departure. It was only several minutes later that she replayed the scene in her mind. His body near to hers, his lips close to her ears. Chinese? What on earth did that have to do with anything?_

* * *

**A/N:** Cyber cookies to whoever can match the right type of food to the fairy tale ;) Also, has anyone else ever noticed that in season four/five Becker didn't laugh once?


	7. Backup Plans

**A/N:** Hi guys! Sorry about the late update but I really didn't have the energy to finish this chapter last night...However, I should be a-ok for tonight so lucky you! Y'all get two chapters in one day! :P he he

I know I've kind of strayed from the idea of 'the plotting' to engage in expanding character relationships...so this chapter will hopefully get us back on track :P (not that I won't get sidetracked again ;) he he)

OK, so, just randomly, I've almost finished a watercolour portrait of Ben Mansfield. The bad news is that it doesn't look all that much like Ben I'm afraid, the good news is that whoever he looks like is quite attractive :P (even if it doesn't look like Ben!)

Thank you so much to all you, my lovely reviewers! :) Your support is much appreciated!

Enjoy!

* * *

VII. Backup Plans

* * *

John looked a little uncomfortable as he sat down across from me on the slightly tattered brown chair. "I err...sorry for running out on you guys like that...but err I really didn't want to be the one who got caught by Becker..." he said a little sheepishly and I couldn't help but mentally roll my eyes.

"It's alright John, nobody has much of an issue with that, although Penny was a little peeved you weren't there to join us for a celebratory breakfast." I remarked dryly. Unable to stop the sarcastic mutter under my breath "Although I don't know that there was much to celebrate about...speaking of which, have you analysed the CCTV feeds yet?"

Admittedly, I was a little nervous that he had (after all, we wouldn't want him getting the wrong idea now would we?), but a small shake of the head alerted me otherwise and quelled those fears. "Oh good, I'll go through them now with you then."

"Oh Lark! But I-" A pointed glare cut him off, and he nodded his head meekly (worked every time) "Ok."

Obediently, my little minion scampered off to get his laptop and returned to me. As I watched him hack into the CCTV network of the ARC, I marveled at the skills of our cleaners.

John was clearly a computer genius; Penny could probably get any job in PR she ever wanted; Thatcher - supermodel (obviously); Marty was secretly a budding biologist (he's an expert on flora and fauna, but I didn't tell you that); and I...I have my own very...particular skill-set that is not all together...legal, and completely unemployable, but a skill all the same. Who would have thought the five of us would have ended up as cleaners?

"I've already made it look like the glitch for locking the doors came from a short circuit." John said as he went through the CCTV footage, "Oh." he said, eyes flickering up from the screen to me, and instantly, I knew what he was watching. I tried the assured stare again, "So, you and Thatcher eh?" John smirked, but he quailed under my glare.

I sniffed depreciatingly and cast a withering look his way, "I wouldn't mind if you didn't go telling everyone that please. It's not really something I want to relive."Liar.

"Yes Lark." John replied timidly. He really was very sweet. Definitely my most obedient minion...I can't help but wonder what it would be like to have Thatcher that ob- Stop.

"Ok, have you got those overlays edited?" I asked, just as the the door knocker sounded loudly. With a huff, I dragged myself off the couch, continuing to speak as I walked to the door and pulled it open. "We'll need to get the new reels uploaded before Jess- Oh."

Well, well well what a surprise. I nearly backtracked and fell over my own feet when I opened John's front door to find a cocky, self-assured Thatcher leaning against the doorframe with Penny and Marty not far behind. Oh the awkward joy.

"Yes?" I asked in what I thought sounded like a suitably casual 'don't even think about coming in' tone.

Those beautiful blue eyes turned on me, and the supermodel smiled, "Oh, Lark, what a pleasant surprise," he smirked, brushing past me into the room "we're here to see John."

"We knew you'd be here anyway Lark." Marty smiled as he passed.

"Yes you are a rather predictable workaholic dear," Penny batted her eyelashes as she linked arms with me and moved into the room, shutting the door behind her with a flick of her foot. "Not that that's a bad thing."

Oh yes, what wonderful comrades, Thatcher had spread himself languidly on the couch, arms and legs draped everywhere. Marty plonked himself down beside the other man, and we moved in gracefully beside him (Well, Penny moved gracefully, I was dragged...).

_"_Redoing the CCTV feeds._" _Penny said wisely as she glanced over at what John was doing. "You don't muck around do you?"

I raised my eyebrow and smirked at my friend, "Would you really want to muck around? John could you show them the locker rooms from start to finish?" I yawned (the day had surprisingly been tiring) and lay back, watching my mates as they studied the laptop.

I knew what the grey-coloured screen would show. Me, sneaking into the ARC team's locker rooms, listening to the lock as I broke Jess's key-code and nicked her comm's set. Relocking the locker and racing to begin emptying the bin, just as Captain Becker walked in.

It's fair to say a number of eyebrows were raised, eyes trained on me. "Well, well, our own personal Bonnie Parker. Should we be worried about your prowess in filching?_" _Thatcher teased, and Marty snorted at the comment.

I couldn't resist the chance to give my own little quip straight back. "Only if you annoy me Thatcher." I retorted, eyebrows raised as I smirked evilly back.

The blonde cleaner grinned delightedly in reply, "I'd like to see you try, Ms Sommerbush." he said, smooth as cream; blue eyes locked on me. I couldn't help it, I had to look away, and...god no! I could feel the blush raising to my cheeks.

"Ahem." I had to clear my throat in order to not come out sounding like a mouse. "What's Becker doing now?"

John had been staring at the two of us, his mouth slightly open in bewilderment and I had caught him off guard with my question, "Uhhhh..." he said, turning back to his computer, "Oh...he's in the cupboard with her now."

That certainly got my interest. "He went in after her?" I said, unable to veil my excitement. (after all, this was from an hour ago at least, and I still wanted to know the success of our mission).

We watched as there was no movement from the pair in the storage room, then, out of the corner of the camera, I saw Matt walk in, closely followed by Abby and Connor. Again, I couldn't hold back my blush, Matt looked so amused, smirking to himself as he opened his locker. Unable to stop myself, I glanced across at my partner in crime to see his reaction, and was even more embarrassed to find that instead of watching the computer screen (like he was supposed to), his eyes were trained directly on me. Oh boy.

Suddenly, there was a crash from the storage room where our lovebirds had disappeared, and Connor (albeit with much trepidation) walked over and jerked open the door a little ways, only to shut it again quickly. The expression on his face said it all. "Well it appears if our plans are working." I said smugly (after all, it's not often that you get to see your genius plans coming to fruition).

Becker (ever the gentleman) opened the door and let Jess out first, following close behind. They stood there for a few seconds, looking like guilty school children, before Becker straightened up, and acting like nothing happened, walked from the room, Jess following a ways behind.

"Arrh! he just acted like nothing happened!" Penny wailed despairingly, waving her hands for emphasis, "Just walked out of there his old usual self!"

"Sounds like someone I know." Thatcher muttered, his eyebrow raised as I glared at him.

We watched as the pair (obviously) flirted in front of the ADD, Becker offering her an apple, Jess declining. When he leaned close and whispered in her ear, I decided all wasn't lost. I sighed, well, so it hadn't gone completely to plan, nevermind, we'd just have to work harder at getting them together.

After John finished editing the feeds, we could get started on phase two (our backup plans - failing the first mission). Time for the real work to begin.

* * *

**A/N:** Anyone know who Bonnie Parker is? :D (and no she isn't Jess' mum :p he he he)

Also, EXTRA AWESOME HUGE DELICIOUS CYBER COOKIES to whoever figures out Larks skill set and can formulate a guess about her past ;)


	8. Plan In Motion

**A/N:** Hey guys! Thanks so much to all my reviewers! Here's chapter 8! It's actually looking like this story is going to be longer than 9 chapters! Woot!

My first time writing Lester in this chapter - hope he's not OOC! :)

Enjoy!

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VIII. Plan in Motion

* * *

_5 years ago. 5:30 AM_

_I walked into the tall glass building a little hesitantly. I wanted a job that was unassuming, not stressful, and something where I would attract the least attention possible; and it seemed, becoming a cleaner at the ARC was just my ticket. _

_They hadn't gone through regular channels, instead, picking me up from working as a cleaner at MI6. A little unusual I know, but apparently, they thought I was perfect for the job, and I wasn't going to complain, I needed a change. _

_The first indication that the ARC was not your regular government agency was the guards. Military dressed all in black, wearing bullet proof vests and holding large, automatic weaponry. So...maybe not unassuming, and non-attention-grabbing after all. It was definitely inciting my curiosity though._

_One of the guards escorted me down silver and blue halls into a large, circular room, that I supposed was a hub of some kind. It was making my eyes boggle. There were computers, and other amazing technologies everywhere._

_I was led up a circling ramp into a ditzy office I supposed was the boss' and I was certainly not disappointed when my eyes first fell on Mr. James Lester. Definitely boss-man. He raised his eyebrow at me, not even motioning for me to sit when he told the guard he could leave us. _

_"So, you were a cleaner at the MI6 base in London?" he questioned sharply and I replied automatically. _

_"Yes I was." I blinked._

_Lester pursed his lips as if he were giving an issue some thought, "I imagine then, that it would not be a stretch of the imagination to assume you can keep a secret?"_

_To tell the truth, I was a little unsure whether it was a question or a statement, so I simply nodded my head. Bad move. Lester sighed and rolled his eyes. _

_"We've already got more than enough staff who talk far to much so of course we need one who's mute. Excellent. I'll need you to sign here, official secrets act and all that, then your first shift starts tomorrow."_

_To say I was surprised is an understatement. I was so shocked, my eyebrows raised almost to my hairline, but I nodded once more and obediently signed my name. 'Lark Marie Sommerbush.'_

_James Lester peered thoughtfully at me over his desk and I could almost feel myself getting smaller under his scrutiny, "Ms Sommerbush, as a cleaner here at the ARC, a top secret government facility, you may encounter certain...things which you are unable to disclose to the general public." he said, (rather boredly I must admit, as if he were reciting an uneventful scene from a play) "You have just signed the official secrets act and as such, if you ever do violate this act, you will be placed under arrest and will never see daylight ever again. Am I clear Ms Sommerbush?"_

_I gulped and nodded again. What had I just got myself into? I should have stayed at MI6! At least there the only real danger was getting picked up by James Bond! (You didn't hear that from me)._

_"Mr Free- whatever your name is," I turned around, a little surprised by the lanky dark-haired man standing at the door, I hadn't even heard him come in, "please show Ms Sommerbush around, and don't take all day - I have more important things to worry about than tourist cleaners!" Lester said, giving a wave of his hand that was an obvious dismissal._

_"Call me Marty, and don't mind him. He's all bark and only bites when provoked." the man said with a smirk as we walked through the ARC, "So you're the new cleaner eh? From MI6? What are they doing over there?"_

_I shot him a look that said everything he needed to know, basically, 'I am not telling you'; and he grinned as he continued the tour. _

_"So this is the cleaners storeroom down here," he said motioning to a silver door on my left, "There are four of us, five including you now I guess. Me, Thatcher, Penny and John. We've all been here only a couple of weeks and so are pretty much as new to this place as you are."_

_The door opened to reveal a pretty asian woman painting her fingernails, a blonde supermodel (or god - take your pick) stretched out across a battered lounge and a mop haired tech, magnified glasses included, at his computer. "Welcome to the home of the cleaners at the ARC."_

• • •

_Present Day. 5:30 AM_

"Everyone in position?" I asked carefully through my comms set.

"Yes Lark." came the resounding answer and I couldn't help but smile.

I cleared my throat, my palms suddenly sweat. Second attempt at Operation: Jesker, now underway. "Alright, time to move."

My team went about their required tasks so quickly it really was quite commendable. John was the first to return, out of breath and glasses slightly askew. "Everything went well Lark, I altered the ID swipe for the elevator to tell us immediately when Becker and Jess come in." he said with a lopsided grin.

I smiled in reply, "Excellent John, are the others almost done?"

And speak of the devil, Marty and Penny sauntered in (well, a kind of a saunter as they were dragging a mop and portable bucket behind them), looking very pleased with themselves. "Task: Wet Floor complete Major Lark." Marty said, giving a mock salute, which caused Penny to fall about in laughter.

I rolled my eyes but couldn't help but smirk at the comment, "At ease private."

Penny only laughed harder at the indignant (and rather put out look on his face), "Private! I'm at least a Captain! Second in command and all that!" Marty spluttered.

"Whoever said you were second in command...Private?" I smirked, eyebrow raised as I turned back to John, who was busy setting up his computer, "Lieutenant Penny, please inform Private Martin to be seated."

I didn't have to turn around to hear the horrified gasp from said private and Penny's (albeit, now mostly controlled) giggles. I could already imagine the look on his face. "And where, might I ask is Thatcher?"

"Right here ma'am." came that voice that immediately sent shivers up my spine.

"Did you complete your task?" I asked, (hopefully) casually.

"Yes ma'am," Thatcher said offhandedly as he fell back into his place on the couch, one foot propped up on the coffee table in front of him. "Camera direction successfully altered."

I inspected him a moment longer before nodding my head, "Good work Sergeant Thatcher, there may be hope for you yet." I smirked.

"What! How come HE's a Sergeant and I'm a private!?" Marty wailed from next to Penny, who I could see from the corner of my eye, patted his hand comfortingly. I ignored my private's comment completely as I studied my minions; waiting for the show to start (this time we had decided to stay at the ARC until the operation was completed).

Oh boy, this was going to be good!


	9. Collisions

**A/N:** Ok guys, sorry it's a quickie - I spent most of my day today reading other peoples work and not writing my own...GAH I am distracted SO easily! :P (especially when I'm reading a good story - or plural - stories in this case!)

Anyway, I enjoyed writing this chapter, it was one of those ideas I came up with when I first started writing this story. Really only Jesker this time around guys! :)

Enjoy!

* * *

IX. Collisions

* * *

_Jess Parker was, as usual the first to enter the ARC, swiping her ID bracelet against the scanner and waiting for the sharp 'ping' of the elevator. She was just about to step inside when she felt someone behind her._

_"Good morning Jessica." came the deep, rolling voice of Captain Becker, "Are you ever actually late to work? I'm beginning to think you secretly live here, in the car park."_

_"Not at all, I simply enjoy my job." Jess turned, smiling up at the tall dark-haired man (who was still at least a foot taller than her - even with her five-inch heels on), "Good morning to you too Becker."_

_They rode in silence up the elevator, although it was a comfortable silence. Jess considered starting a conversation to attempt to draw him from his stoic silence, but decided against it, choosing instead to observe said Captain from the corner of her eye. _

_Becker was standing, well, how he normally stood. Back straight, legs spread in an alert stance, and arms crossed neatly behind his back. If that wasn't a sight to behold, she didn't know what was._

_"Did you have a nice night? Last night I mean...Do anything special? Not that it's any of my business...erm...what you do...erm in your spare time." she finished lamely, sure that her face had gone the same colour as her cherry-red shoes. _

_The cocky raised eyebrow of her smirking Head of Security really was not helping as she stepped awkwardly from the lift, trying to regain her composure. "Yes Jessica, I did." came the reply, and Jess looked over in shock as they walked down the hallways._

_The image of Becker having what she determined as a good time was a hard one to believe (after all, he didn't seem the type to go clubbing...or go shopping...or watch romcoms for that matter). _

_"I see from your expression that you do not believe me Miss Parker." again, she was nearly bowled over by his knowing quirk of a smile, and head cocked to the side. "I did, indeed have an evening of leisure and relaxation at my apartment; which I count as having a 'good time' if you must know Jess." _

_She blushed at the comment, "Oh Becker I didn't mean-" Whatever Jessica Parker was about to say next was cut off with a shriek as one cherry-coloured shoe went one way, the other went another, and the ARC's most brilliant field coordinator fell backwards in what was most certainly going to be one of the most spectacular falls ever caught on camera._

_Jess was, however, saved by a handily placed arm around her lower back, and another under a knee that had somehow manage to kick upwards. It took her a few seconds to realise that she was bent over backwards one arm around Beckers neck._

_In a different situation, she would have been more than happy to do a backbend any tango dancer would have been proud of (including her mother)...but not quite like this. Here. In the middle of the ARC. At 6AM on a Thursday morning. And especially because she slipped on the floor. Come to think of it how had he managed to catch her. Then again, he did have muscles the size of- Cherry-coloured cheeks have returned._

_Either oblivious or ignoring her embarrassment and train of thought, Becker gently set her back on her feet, noticing for the first time, the water on the floor. Frowning a little, he stepped out of the puddle and helped her across. Jess thought that after so much close-contact, he would move away (after all, that was how he had reacted in the past). But he never failed to surprise her._

_"Miss Parker, I hope you are not going to make a habit of this clumsiness" Becker said, his face serious, but his eyes laughing as he stayed where he was. Right in front of her. "Can't have you falling all about the place now can we?"_

_With that, Captain Becker brushed a small curl that had somehow managed to escape her side ponytail behind her ear. Jess froze. It was the smallest, almost most insignificant act, but it felt so intimate, words could not describe it._

_The walk the rest of the way into the ARC was uneventful, and so was the rest of the day, but no-matter how hard she tried, Jessica Parker could not get the feel of Captain Becker's hand on her cheek, nor the image of his eyes locked on hers, out of her head._

• • •

Penny and I were equally entranced in the scene in front of us. Watching the pair as they walked onto our carefully rigged, wet floor. Becker had just managed to stop Jess from falling over (as we knew he would) and had actually given us quite a picture - ending the movement in a backbend almost - tango style.

We watched as gently, carefully he set her down, making sure she wasn't going to slip, before stepping onto the dry floor and helping her across. Then Becker stopped, said something to the woman quietly, making her blush, before ticking a stray piece of hair off her cheek and behind her ear.

We couldn't help it, Penny and I let out little squeals of excitement at exactly the same time (causing our boys to give us a look like we'd just grown two heads). My friend and I looked at one another conspiratorially, "He's a gonner." we said knowingly, before getting up to fix everyone a cup of tea.

Even over the kettle boiling, I could still hear the three men on the lounge (well, Marty and Thatcher anyway - John was too busy with his computer) "Uhhh what just happened." The dark haired, lanky man asked the supermodel; sounding very confused.

"Mate, I have absolutely NO idea." Thatcher whispered straight back, obviously, equally befuddled.

Men. Absolutely clueless.


	10. Desperate Measures

**A/N:** OK. I have decided that I would be very pleased, my lovely readers, if thou wouldst giveth me prompts :) I know where I'm going with this story but I'd still like to ask for them all the same (after all - I might just use them in a one-shot; other story; or even a sequel [not that there is going to be one of those... :P]) It can be anything, one liners; single words; a phrase/sentence; compulsory for Becker&Jess to do; or even my OC characters (Lark, Thatcher, Penny, Marty & John). The sky's the limit! :) (dedications will be in the respective chapter).

Sorry it took so long to get this chapter up, but it's the longest I've ever written, and I didn't really want to cut it. :)

Thankyou so much all of you that have reviewed! You guys really are quite amazing!

Enjoy! :)

* * *

X. Desperate Measures

* * *

I am not a patient person. And Captain Becker is a man that is truly testing my patience. We gave him the perfect opening, and he supplied with that beautiful backbend (which Penny and I are still swooning about by the way). However, the man doesn't seem to know a good thing when it hits him. After that particular incident, it's like he's frozen up, and has refused to talk to the poor girl for any reason out of the ordinary for the past three days. Quite frankly, I couldn't be more ashamed of him. He really has no clue.

I'll give you a sample conversation:

Jess: Oh hi Becker! [great big beaming smile that basically says 'good lord above I love you, and from what happened yesterday, I think you might too']

Becker: Jess. [acknowledging nod of the head. Shuffles some papers.]

Jess: [Smile fading. Searching for something to say. Brainwave!] Have you finished those reports from last weeks anomaly with those Pera-, peri-; Pera-

Becker: Peraceras [not looking up from papers]

Jess: Yeah, those things. You'd think living with Connor I'd know a little more about these things! [Smiles brilliantly, but dims a little when the target of said smile barely glances up]

Becker: [Clears throat awkwardly. Not paying much attention] Yeah, I guess so. It's right here, could you file these please? I've got something I have to do.

Jess: Oh, alright then Becker, see you later then yeah? [Acting cheerful]

Becker: Thanks Jess. [Passes her papers and heads off]

It is clearly evident that the man has retreated back into his shell, and extra efforts will have to be made to make this work. An added problem is that the deadline for wherein I will win this bet ends in a week. We have a week to get the two of them together and Becker is deciding to make it hard with his little issue of 'one step forward, five steps back' in regards to a certain Miss Jessica Parker.

To top it off, it seems that Marty and Penny both called in sick (must have caught some sort of flu or something), leaving John, Thatcher and I to do the work of five people. (Not that I'm really complaining since I was the one who called the supervisor and told her not to call in casuals - we could handle it for one shift - after all, we didn't want some random butting in on our operation). Talk about a major headache.

It was only after a long, heated argument between the three of us about who was going to do all the laundering (it was decided Thatcher and I would do it together and John would get bathrooms - don't ask me HOW that is a better option); that we actually began our work for the night.

"Does Penny normally use any form of stain-remover on the menagerie workers gear?" Thatcher asked, frowning as he peered into one of the huge cupboards in the laundry rooms.

I couldn't help but roll my eyes a little (although I was secretly pleased - Thatcher was doing the washing!), "I would assume she does as the things she wash always seem to be stain-free but the end of it all."

"Ha ha, very funny," Thatcher leered, pulling the liquid from the cupboard and coming over to me (as I was busy sorting items into colours etc). "So, what are we going to do about our favourite couple?"

I sighed and frowned at the dirty clothes in my hands. He really could read my mind..."I have no idea Thatcher, but if something doesn't happen soon, I'm going to go mad...well madder than I already am." I smiled impishly at him, making him laugh.

"Really Lark? You'd go mad? Seriously, how can you be that hell-bent on getting those two together?" Thatcher asked with a smile, cocking his head to the side. Just as I opened my mouth to make some smart retort (which I'm certain I would have made up on the spot) "And don't tell me it's all for the money; because we both know that's not true. You don't care two whitt's about money."

I glared at the blonde haired man who was grinning at me like the cat that got the cream. What was it, 'read Larks mind day'? Jeesh. "Becker is driving me crazy; he's completely oblivious to his own feelings, and ignores the fact that Jess' feelings are not some childish crush!" I wailed, deciding I might as well let a couple of my feelings spill over.

Thatcher looked at me with an expression that could only be called bemusement (what he has to be bemused about I have no idea). "I wonder who that sounds like." he muttered under his breath as he turned back to the washing.

My eyes narrowed as I only just caught that passing comment, "I beg your pardon?" I questioned suspiciously.

"Nothing." Came the innocent reply.

It's fair to say, I didn't quite believe him, but no-matter, I have bigger things to worry about. It was after a few minutes more of sorting, that Thatcher started talking again.

"I have an idea," (shock, horror!) "all you have to do is make him jealous. Have him think that his chance is threatened." Thatcher said calmly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

I raised my eyebrows incredulously, "What. You're going to go up there and flirt with her?" Surely he was joking...But then again did any one of us know much about the other outside of working at the ARC? Musing on that thought I began chucking clothes in the huge washing machine; trying not to think about the image of Thatcher snogging Jess tugging at the corner of my mind.

It was Thatcher's turn to roll his eyes (thankfully) "No. We'll get John to do it."

If I had been drinking something, I would have choked, but instead, my eyes simply went wide and mouth hung open in shock, (before I remembered I was supposed to be doing a job) "John? Really? Does he even know how to flirt?"

"That's mean Lark" Thatcher smirked, his eyes twinkling; and somehow I severely doubted he had a problem with what I said. The smile kind of gave it away.

"Well I'm just asking" I giggled, (giggling? I never giggle!) tipping a little more powder in the washtub. "But seriously, why would you even suggest it? You know the only thing he ever has an eye for is his computer!"

"Well, Jess is a computer geek isn't she? All we have to do is get him to go and talk to her about his programmes." Thatcher whispered excitedly (really, it was like he was a kid who had just gotten an ice cream), moving closer and moving his arms in demonstration, "We'll time it so Becker walks in at that exact moment, and hopefully, he'll do what any logical male would do when he thinks his woman is under threat from another male-"

"Have an aneurism?" I smirked. Did he really hear himself? It was taking all my self control not to burst into hysterical laughter.

"No," was it just me, or was Thatcher getting closer? As he moved, his already deep voice just got deeper almost turning into a growl and sending shivers up my spine. "make a move. Stake a claim. Let every other male in the area know she's his."

My traitorous breath hitched, catching in my chest, and I had to clear my throat. Making me hate myself when my words came out little more than a squeak "Well that sounds very...animalistic."

For a moment, we just stood there, as if frozen, unable to break away. Then, almost as suddenly as it came, the moment was gone and Thatcher seemed to jerk himself away, turning to put the lid down on the washing machine behind him. "It is. Very primal. But that's just the way it is."

Damn tease. He HAD to know what he was doing. Had to know that (quite ridiculously too), he was frazzling my nerves. "Right. Whatever. It's a good idea, we'll get him to do it as soon as our shift ends then." I said, my voice clipped and professional. "Good idea Thatcher, well done."

My partner smirked and gave me a mock salute as he headed for the door, "Thank you Ma'am. My pleasure." Oh good lord, he just kissed my knuckles, and...just, no! The prat even had the nerve to wink at me! "Anytime."

He is SO dead.

• • •

_Miss Jessica Parker was not a patient person, a fact that was clearly evident to any passerby (had there been any), in the way her fingers tapped at the ADD table sharply. Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap. Incessantly._

_The man was completely incorrigible. Just days before, she had lulled herself into thinking that maybe, just maybe, Becker was a little more emotionally stable than she first believed. That perhaps he returned the feelings she so obviously exhibited. But almost three days later and not a peep out of him._

_Oh yes, she was in desperate need of consolatory chocolate. A very large amount of consolatory chocolate. Jess sighed, wishing for the fifth time in the last half an hour, that the scan she was running would just hurry up and finish._

_Yawning, a little, Jess checked her watch - 6:30 - really could it go any slower? Becker had arrived half an hour ago, giving her a quick hello before heading straight down to the armory. How depressing._

_Suddenly inspired, she snuck a peek up at Lester's office and put the ADD on it's remote settings. Running as fast and as silently as her aqua blue, six-inch-heels would allow, Jess raced to the Canteen, opened the fridge and rummaged around before grabbing her special chocolate mousse (only for the most needy of situations) and fleeing back to the hub._

_When she entered the room however, Jess was met with a surprise. There was someone sitting at the ADD, watching the screens through highly magnified glasses. "Erm, can I help you?" Jess said with a smile, pacing towards her chair. Come to think of it, she'd never even seen this guy before, he definitely one of the regular techs she worked with._

_At the sound of her voice, the man (he wouldn't be all that much older than her) jumped and whirled around, his mouth open in horror. "Oh sorry, I was just on my way out, saw there was no-one manning the ADD. Didn't want you getting in trouble with Lester." he said shyly, and Jess couldn't help but smile at his sweet awkwardness._

_"Thanks for that! Just had to go get some nourishment," she said, holding up the mousse in explanation as the man moved out of the way for her to reseat herself at her computer. Remembering her manners, she held out her hand to him, "I'm Jessica Parker - Jess; by the way. Field-coordinator."_

_"Oh, uh, John Arnold." John said, shyly again, shaking her hand, "I'm one of the cleaners here at the ARC. Shift just finished and I was heading home."_

_"Oh really?" Jess said, a little surprised. He didn't look much like a cleaner, more like someone who should be sitting behind a desk permanently._

_John ducked his head awkwardly at her comment, "Yeah, I know- not really cut out for the job; I'd rather be at a computer, but I can't complain."_

_Jess laughed at his optimism and patted his hand as she settled herself on her chair and gave him one of her more brilliant smiles (reserved for people she felt a little pity for). "Well thank you for covering the ADD for me. Lester would have had my head otherwise."_

_"Oh, no problem." John blushed as he turned for the exit, "You're most welcome. Anytime Jess. Bye."_

_"See-ya John!" Jess replied before turning back to the ADD and catching a flash of black out of the corner of her eye. "Oh Becker! I didn't see you there! What are you doing here?" she smiled at the silent captain, who's eyes were watching the departing figure at the elevators._

_"I just came to give you the inventory reports. Who was that?" Becker replied, still watching the direction the other man had walked._

_Jess' eyebrow raised, and she smiled thoughtfully, "That was John, one of the cleaners for the ARC - his shift had finished and he covered for three seconds for me while I went to get some chocolate." she said, "Very sweet of him really, since he doesn't even know me."_

_"Hmmm yes," Becker murmured almost to himself, apparently lost in thought._

_"Becker?" Jess said, poking the soldier in the arm with a wicked grin, "Daydreaming on the job? Weren't you going to give me those inventory reports?"_

_"Oh, yeah Jess, right here." he smiled, passing over the files and turning back the way he had come, "Try not to get caught unawares next time you leave the ADD."_

_"Yes Becker!" Jess chimed cheerfully, swiveling in her chair. Perhaps today wasn't going to be quite as terrible as she though it would be. _

• • •

"Well that was an epic fail. His sense of 'territory' as you put it mustn't have been threatened enough." I commented dryly, my eyes flickering over to my partner in crime. I couldn't help grin wickedly at his sulky expression, "No wonder no-body asks you for ideas. They never turn out as planned!"

"Hey! It's not my fault Becker doesn't know how to act like a man!" Thatcher said defensively.

I couldn't help but laugh at that as we made our way over to our cars, "You do realise this is Becker we're talking about Thatcher? The manliest man in the world?" I grinned.

Thatcher sniffed depreciatingly before replying, "He's not the manliest man, I'M the manliest man!"

"Yeah yeah, keep saying it and maybe someday someone will actually believe you." I teased, sliding into my car, fleeing, "See you tomorrow Thatcher."

"Bye Lark." came the reply. As I drove out of the car park, I saw the way he didn't move, eyes watching me as I drove from the building.

"Oh Thatcher." I whispered to myself, sighing as I drove. The image of his blue eyes piercing my own filling my mind. This was getting harder with every day.


	11. Job Swap

**A/N:** Hello, hello! Chapter 11 is here, and it is dedicated to two of my lovely reviewers - Rubytronix and YouHaveLovelyHair, (because I combined your prompts - tehehe). Just so you know, this concept will be continued over two chapters (it's so long!). Thanks a million! I quite love this chapter, (and the companion chapter) and the idea itself (surely evident by the fact that I wrote it so quickly!) and can't wait to hear what you think :)

Also, beware, it is the first time I've ever written Conby (it's only a tiny little bit, but still...), and I'm not sure how it's gone :P

Thanks to all of you that reviewed! Love you guys!

Enjoy! :)

* * *

XI. Job Swap

* * *

_"Come on Abby! Can't you wear it for just one day?" Connor pleaded, holding the t-shirt out to his fiancé._

_Abby glared at him, hands on her hips, not giving in, "Connor. How do I put this," she said adamantly, "I. Am. NOT. Wearing. That. Where did you even get it?"_

_"Oh but Abby! I got it at the last comic-con, it was going to be a surprise for you." Connor groaned, staring at her pleadingly, chipping away at the wall of her stubbornness, "C'mon please? For me?"_

_Wondering what it was that she had done to deserve such treatment, and with a sigh, she grabbed the t-shirt off Connor, and went to change. "You owe me big time Connor." She called over her shoulder, and the man couldn't help but grin._

_As soon as his fiancé was out of sight, he nodded to himself, rewarding himself for his 'score', "You Connor, are the man." he smirked._

• • •

_"Morning Jess!" Connor called out to his flat mate as he and Abby walked into the hub. Quickly he slung his arm around his fiancé's shoulder and sauntered over to the ADD where the field coordinator was sitting, "Notice anything different?"_

_Abby had to roll her eyes, he really was ridiculous sometimes. "No," Jess said with a frown, but suddenly her expression cleared and she squealed as she spotted what he was talking about. Abby sighed dejectedly, she'd never hear the end of this, "Naww that is so cute Connor!"_

_"Han Solo," Becker read Connor's shirt, coming up behind Jess and raising his eyebrow, before turning to read Abby's, taking in each of their pictures "Princess Leia." Smirking widely, he circled the pair and read the back of their t-shirts, "Together" he grinned after reading Abby's before moving to Connor's "Forever."_

_"Isn't it just so sweet Becker!" Jess smiled happily, clutching her hands together, completely ignorant of Connor's proud look and Abby's beet red face._

_Becker just raised his eyebrow, shooting the red-faced woman a knowing smirk and receiving a glare in reply, "No comment." he replied, before turning back to Jess and giving her the message he was sent, "Lester want's to see you, something about a story about the archaeopteryx from last week, oh and Connor, one of the lab technicians wants you."_

_It was only when the two of them left, Connor giving his fiancé a quick kiss on the cheek and Jess shooting him a smile as she moved, that Becker turned to Abby. "So, Leia..."_

_"Don't talk to me." Abby growled coldly, turning on her heel and stalking out to the menagerie, leaving Becker to smirk to himself all the way back down to the armoury._

• • •

_"Lester, have you ever wondered what it would be like to do another job?" Jess asked vaguely as she went through the papers on his desk._

_Lester looked up from his phone in surprise, "No Jessica, I have not...I have however savoured the thought of being retired," came the sarcastic reply, "May I ask where on earth this is coming from?"_

_"Oh nowhere, I was just talking to one of the cleaners yesterday - did you know, I never even realised we had cleaners, although of course, we'd have to!" Jess rambled, more to herself than her boss, "But the thought never really crossed my mind. I'm not sure the thought has really crossed the others minds either! Can you imagine Connor cleaning? Or Becker for that matter?"_

_The director couldn't believe what he was hearing. Never thought there were cleaners? Really! What planet had these people come from? How did they think the ARC got so shiny? It didn't polish itself!_

_The image of Connor, Becker and Matt walking around the ARC in cleaners uniforms, washing the floors, dusting the windows, did however, give him a kind of sadistic pleasure. It would be...amusing to see how they would react to doing such a job._

_"Jess, would you get me the files for a Miss Lark Sommerbush, a Mr Thatcher Harding, Mr Martin Freeman, Mr John Arnold, and a Ms Penny Moonfield please." he said, just as the field coordinator was leaving his office in six-inch tall aqua peep-toes_

_She gave him a confused glance before smiling and nodding, "Sure Lester, be right back."_

_Maybe this would take them down a peg or two. Make them more inclined to do as he said, instead of gallivanting off whichever way they wanted to. After all, surely there was no-one more humble than a cleaner?_

• • •

I awoke (rather annoyed) to the sound of my mobile ringing, the loud, obnoxious noise startling me from the most restful sleep I'd had in a week. "Lark here." I mumbled blearily as I answered. Rubbing a hand across my face I checked the time - 10:00 AM! What the hell?

"Hello Ms Sommerbush, this is Lillian, Lester's Secretary at the ARC," came the professional reply, and I only just managed to hold back a groan (only just mind you). Last time I had been called like this, it was because future beetles had managed to gnaw their way through the ARC and us cleaners were needed to clean up (of course).

"Yes, Lillian," I sighed, pushing back my covers and sitting up, "What can I do for you?"

"Lester's called a meeting and he needs you and the other cleaners here in 30 mins. Please call the others and let them know." The woman really did have a way of phrasing herself, she must have gotten a few hints from her boss.

"I'm on it." I replied, making the perfunctory goodbye, and calling Thatcher as I heaved myself out of bed and began to get changed.

"Hello? Lark? Do you know what time it is?" came Thatchers deep voice over the other end of the line, "What's wrong?"

"Hi Thatcher, nothing's wrong - unless you call being woken up by Lester's secretary wrong - which I am tempted to do," I sighed, moving about the apartment, "Apparently we have a meeting in 25 minutes in Lester's office, you call John and I'll call Penny and Marty?"

As expected there was a groan from his side and what sounded like the man pushing back his bed-sheets (the mental image the sound gave me was a pleasant one), "Sure Lark, see you then." Came the begrudging reply, and I couldn't help but smirk as I closed the phone and prepared to call the others.

What on earth Lester wanted I had no idea.

• • •

"I presume you are the leader of this gang of miscreants?" Lester asked in his familiar, bored voice.

I wasn't quite sure how to answer, so someone else did it for me, "Yes sir, she is." Thatcher said, smiling at me reassuringly. Well, if he said I was then I had better stop acting so shy. Thinking that, I stood up a little straighter and nodded to the boss.

"Sir? I could get used to this, perhaps this wasn't such an outlandish idea after all." Lester commented, his eyebrow raised, looking pointedly at the core team, who just stood there with smirks on their faces, "Right, we are going to do some job work experience today, because I have decided my employees are all too good at their own jobs and need to learn how to do something else as well."

"I don't understand Lester." Matt said, his Irish accent thick as he frowned at the director.

Lester rolled his eyes like it was a completely stupid question (I didn't disagree with Matt - I had no idea why we were here - after all, I was supposed to be sleeping!) "Miss Parker brought it to my attention this morning that you are all close-minded about the perimeters of your job definition, and that of others. Therefore, I have made the executive decision that for today, you will all be doing a job-switch."

Pardon? There was a stunned silence for about 5 seconds before the room burst into argument.

"I didn't mean you had to do that!" (That was Jess, looking rather aghast)

"Eh, what about my inventions!" (Connor)

Come to think of it, the only ones who weren't really complaining were us cleaners. (even though, so far today, we had gotten a max total of 4 hrs sleep)

"Lester, I really don't this this is a good idea," Becker said in an even voice (you could tell he was annoyed though, he had this little vein on the side of his temple that was just pulsing like crazy...) "They are civilians, untrained and without any military background, do they even know how to operate an anomaly closing device? What if-"

"Actually, Captain Becker, perhaps it would be to your benefit to read the files before you begin a counter argument." I snapped. The man was as annoyingly gorgeous/proud/stubborn in person as he was on CCTV, and he was really getting on my nerves with his assumptions and obliviousness. For gods sake - just ask her out already you nincompoop of a soldier, and end this whole fiasco! (at least...that's what my mind was screaming to me). "For your information Captain Becker, we have all been working here longer than you have, since the ARC began really. We have security clearance, and have had weapons training. Yes, we do know how to operate a closing device - we're all trained to in case there is another incursion here at the ARC; after all, no offense, but have you actually ever seen the people who replace you on night shift? Also, Marty has had military experience, Penny is a street-fighter, and I came first in my interrogation training when I worked at MI6. So don't talk to me about who's qualified and who's not!"

My team managed to keep a straight face (after all, they knew everything about that already - not the interrogation bit but the rest of it) but the ARC's core team looked at me in horror. (I guess I may have looked a little terrifying, seething with righteous indignation.)

Becker simply scowled (and looked like he was about to explode). Lester cleared his throat, breaking the awkward spell "Yes, you are definitely team leader Miss Sommerbush." he said dryly, turning back to the head of security, "I have already checked their files Captain Becker, I would not do this if I did not think they were incapable of handling an anomaly should the need arise. Now that little quarrel has been sorted, we will begin. Ms Sommerbush, you will swap with Matt, as you are both team leaders; Mr Freeman, with Captain Becker; Ms Moonfield, Miss Maitland; Mr Harding with Temple; and Miss Parker, with Mr Arnold. You will instruct your partner about your duties here at the ARC, and then you may begin. Clear? Run along children." he said, waving the large group from his office.

As the grumbling group left the office (well the core team was grumbling, us cleaners we smirking like crazy - already imagining what their reaction would be to our jobs), Jess looked around nervously and took a deep breath, stopping everyone for a moment, "Look everyone, I'm SO sorry about this, I didn't know Lester was going to do this - I just mentioned to him we didn't know much about the other workers here at the ARC; he got this idea in his head and I couldn't stop him and-"

"It's alright Jess," Becker said soothingly, shooting a glare in my direction (at which I couldn't help but roll my eyes, really, the man had a problem) as his team gathered around her, and mine moved behind me, "It wasn't your fault."

Nobody spoke for a few moments, and quite frankly, it was getting a little awkward standing there in silence. I sighed, stepping forward and breaching the neutral zone between their team and ours. "Ok look," I said bluntly, getting straight to the point, "You'd all rather not be doing this, and we'd rather be at home sleeping, so can we please get this over with?"

At that precise moment, the elevator doors slid open and Lady Emily Merchant walked in, obviously startled to see so many people gathered in the hub. She hadn't been to work for the last few days, sick with the flu or something and Matt was obviously surprised to see her, "Emily!" he said, meeting her halfway, the worry in his voice was obvious and I couldn't help but smile. Now why wasn't Becker taking points from his team leader? Oh yes, because Becker doesn't take points from anybody. Point taken. "What are you doing here? You're supposed to be at home resting!"

"I am fine Matt, I am no longer sick." Emily said, giving him a smile and squeezing his hand in reassurance. Her eyes flickered to the rest of us in confusion, "What is everyone doing here and who are these other people?"

Matt sighed, "Lester's got it into his head we need a job swap to 'open our minds'," he said, the displeasure clearly evident in his voice, "These are the cleaners at the ARC, we're swapping with them."

Emily frowned thoughtfully for a moment before nodding her head, "I think this is a good idea." she said, earning looks of shock from the rest of her team, "After all, I have noticed that in this century, and even in my own, people do not pay much attention to the work that is done behind the scenes. This century is all about equality and yet, the work these people do is taken for granted. Perhaps we will better understand this way." I liked her already.

"Emily does have a point," Jess spoke up from beside Becker, and she put a calming hand on his arm when he opened his mouth to argue. "It can't be that hard can it?"

I held back a snigger (barely); famous last words from the field coordinator.

* * *

**A/N:** I highly doubt cleaners who work at MI6 would receive interrogation resistance training and as such, Lark's statement will be explained in further detail, later in the story :D


	12. The Problem With Apparel

**A/N:** Well here it is! The follow-on chapter from chapter 11 (chapter 12...duh :P eheh) I hope thou doth haveth fun with this! (I, like Lester, took sadistic pleasure in it!) Longest chapter yet! Whoop Whoop! More torture of characters to come next chapter, but until then...

Well I never expected to get 10 reviews let alone 76 for this story! So a million thanks to all of you that reviewed last chapter; are continually reviewing and to those who have stuck with me since the beginning!

Onwards and Upwards!

Enjoy! :)

* * *

XII. The Problem With Apparel

* * *

"Lady Merchant, why don't you join Mr Anderson and I?" I said, as the mob of ARC workers slowly made it's way down to the cleaners store rooms. "There is no sixth cleaner here, but I'm sure he will be more than welcoming of the assistance"

Emily looked at me in surprise, her gaze flickering between Matt and I. When he smiled at her, she relaxed, and nodded to me, "That would be most welcome Miss Sommerbush." she replied.

I shook my head, holding out my hand with a smile, "Lark, please."

"Well then, I am Emily, Lark." the brunette woman said with a smile, taking my hand and giving it a firm shake. My granny used to tell me that a woman who couldn't shake hands properly wasn't worth knowing (of course, she was a little extreme at times) and the woman in front of me had a strong, confident hand-shake. I could fairly say that my esteem of her was rising by the minute. "What is your position in the ARC maintenance staff?"

I grinned at her, noting from the corner of my eye that Matt was studying me intently and that everyone else was walking behind us in stoic silence (some listening in more moodily than others - Becker...).

"If you don't mind, I might as well tell everyone at once, since they seem to be listening in anyway." Emily nodded and I turned to the rest of the group, feeling ridiculously like a tour guide, 'and this is blah blah blah'. A little awkwardly I cleared my throat and steeled myself for the dreaded speech. "Alright everyone, just to get this clear, I am Lark, this is Thatcher, Marty, Penny and John" Pointing to each member in turn (and feeling like a school teacher when I did it). "We are the general cleaners here at the ARC, and a part of the maintenance staff. We all technically do the same job, but with four floors and the basement to cover, we have a schedule to do it in. Your 'buddy' as I guess you could call it, will let you know what they are scheduled to do, and hence, what you will be doing. Am I clear?"

"Yes Lark." Chimed my team and the others looked at my friends with bemused expressions. I guess they hadn't seen such devotion before. Suddenly, I was struck with an absolutely brilliant idea (not that I didn't get them all the time). Pushing open the doors to the storage room, I walked in confidently, knowing the others milled around behind me.

The other cleaners went to the uniform basket and began pulling out overalls for the core team to wear, trying to predict sizes (well, Penny was the one doing that - she had an uncanny knack for sizing; the men were just standing there letting her pass the uniforms to them).

When the boys went and handed out the gear to the other team, I whispered my idea to Penny, and her face lit up with wicked excitement. Nonchalantly, she moved on to Marty who was leaning against a cupboard watching the reactions the the other team had to their outfits. When she told him as well, he smirked and glance towards me, nodding in recognition. Within moments, Thatcher and John knew also, and agreed. Oh this was going to be good.

I was suddenly jerked from my plotting by Jess' horrified voice on the other side of the room, "I don't actually have to take my shoes off do I?" she quite frankly sounded mortified.

"Yes, I would suggest it, unless you want to have them discolour." Thatcher smirked, cocking his head an leaning on the couch. Becker glared at him and shuffled a tiny bit closer to the small, colourful woman who was busy trying to drag on the uniform over the top of her clothes. It was the smallest movement, and you wouldn't have noticed it if you hadn't been looking for it (which I was) but it was there all the same.

It seemed Thatcher's 'territory' theory wasn't so unfounded after all - just Becker wasn't threatened by geeks, only supermodels. Come to think of it, I wasn't all that pleased with the look Thatcher was giving her either.

Acting like any good hostess (not that I was a hostess), I stepped between the two testosterone filled males and attempted to sooth the waters. "Thatcher's right Miss Parker, I think we should get you another pair of shoes." Quickly I turned and called for help, "Penny can you pass us one of your extra pair of joggers please?"

"Oh please, no-one calls me 'Miss Parker', I'm just Jess." Jess smiled, taking the joggers from Penny. Almost woefully, she pried off her heels and slid her feet into the other, more-sensible-for-cleaning shoes. Wedges in hand, she stood on the spot for a moment before gesturing around a little, "Where should I put-"

"Oh just leave them next to the couch." I replied, waving her in the general direction, which she immediately set off to do.

When all the others were dressed and ready, waiting for instructions, I took a moment to appraise their appearances. Abby wore her overall's well, in fact, she looked just like the zoo-keeper she used to be (just in blue overall's rather than green).

Connor, however, did not. He looked like a lanky farmhand that had never grown into his fathers clothes, and could quite possibly be construed as the reason for the theory 'no-one looks good in overalls'.

Becker however, well, it's already a well known fact that he looks good in anything and is the exception to the rule. Jess was dwarfed. Emily looked a little odd (yet beautiful at the same time), and Matt looked like a radiation scientist from some bad sci-fi film (ironically).

I had to question whether Lester was quite in his right mind when deciding to do this. Perhaps he had had just a little too much of the quality whiskey he kept under his desk...

"I feel very..short." Jess said mournfully, and Connor snickered (after all she was), earning him an elbow from Abby.

"You're fine as you are." Becker said softly (and again, if I hadn't been listening for it, I probably wouldn't have heard it. And no, I'm not nosey, just making sure everything's going in the right direction); making Jess blush to the roots of her hair.

I cleared my throat, bringing everyone's attention back to the task at hand, "Right, now you're all ready, I should let you know, that because there's more of you than there is of us, we've had to change the schedule around a little." I said, my face as straight as possible, although I was trying not to laugh with evil glee. "As such, Matt and Emily, you'll be with me on bins, Connor and Abby, you're on laundering; and Jess and Becker, you're on bathrooms."

Matt and Emily had nodded when I told them their jobs, Connor and Abby looked resigned, but when I got to Jess and Becker; the man's face drained of colour and his mouth opened in horror.

"Bathrooms?!" Becker spluttered, obviously less than pleased with the idea.

"Yes Bathrooms Captain Becker," I said, raising my eyebrow, "You'll be cleaning the toilets. Do you have a problem with that?"

"Yes I-" whatever angry, indignant, stubborn, arrogant, possibly foul-mouthed remark he was going to make was cut off by Jess (I have the distinct feeling she'll be good for him).

"No problems of course Lark," She interjected smoothly, sending a frown at her partner that clearly said 'don't complain Becker!'. Jess turned back to me with a smile, "We're ready when you are!"

I smiled radiantly at everyone. As soon as we finished showing them what they were supposed to do, us cleaners were going to make our way up to our new positions. "Good-o everyone! Let's begin!"

• • •

**_Becker and Marty_**

Becker shifted the cleaning tools in his hands awkwardly, getting the distinct feeling he looked ridiculous. Jess and the other cleaner who had been at the ADD the other day were just up ahead, chattering away happily to each other.

Amazingly, Jess just managed to look even sweeter in those frumpy blue overalls (not that he'd ever admit it to anyone). He really didn't know how the others did it. Especially this man - Marty, beside him. Lester had mentioned he used to be a soldier - how could he have made the decision to do this job instead?

"So, Marty," he started awkwardly, "I know Lester said you have had military experience..."

The other man's eyes glanced across at him before replying, "Yeah, I was three and a half years in the Royal Marines."

Beckers brows shot up and he nodded, not exactly what he had predicted. "Why did you leave the military?" he asked, honestly curious. He couldn't quite fathom it himself, even leaving military, he was still doing a job that had some military basis.

Marty shrugged, "I didn't like what all the killing was doing to me. I didn't like who I was becoming." he said simply, "Decided the life of a soldier was not something I wanted to spend the rest of my life doing."

"So you came home to become a cleaner?" Becker couldn't help the mocking edge to his voice. It just seemed like such an outlandish idea.

His 'buddy' pulled up short and put a non-too-gentle hand on his arm, forcing him to come to a halt, "Right mate, first of all, there's nothing wrong with being a cleaner! You might not believe it, but it's all hard work, long hours, short breaks, and done at odd times." he growled, definitely annoyed, "Secondly, no I didn't, I stumbled across this position and jumped at the chance. Still keeps me on my toes, and I enjoy it. Don't mock me."

"I apologise." Becker said, truly contrite, "It wasn't my intention to offend you, I'm just not entirely sure how a person can make such a decision."

"Really? You don't know?" Marty said with a smirk, relaxing once more, "You might find it hard to believe Captain Becker, but I'm much happier without all the guns. I have my friends, and my mostly risk-free job. I've realised it's the people in life that make it worth living, not the career."

"Yes," Becker said quietly, realising how much the other man said was true. If he had the choice, there was no way he would rejoin Special Ops if it meant leaving behind his team, and Jess. Especially Jess. Who would protect her if he wasn't there to?

**_Jess and John_**

"I'm afraid doing this job-swap won't readily be on my list of things to do after today." Jess joked, smiling over at her 'buddy', the shy and likable John.

John laughed and smiled at her "There's no real problem with that. Not many people would." he said, "Cleaning isn't on the 'most wanted' careers list."

"I wonder why." Jess giggled, "If you have to clean the toilets!"

They had walked like that for some time, chatting happily about anything and everything, from the weather, to computer virus' when they came to the bathrooms, and John pulled up.

Becker and the other cleaner Marty, were only a few steps behind them and stopped when they did. When Jess glanced back at the captain, he was staring at the floor, a thoughtful frown on his face, and she wondered what it was Marty could have said to cause such an expression.

"Ok Jess, Becker, you'll be doing the ladies rooms first." Marty said, ticking the things to do off his fingers, "Floors need to be washed, sinks cleaned, mirrors sprayed, and toilet paper replaced; ignore the sanitary bins, an outsourced company takes care of those-yes Becker?"

"I think you mean Jess will be doing the ladies rooms and I do the mens don't you?" he said calmly, believing he had picked up the mistake in the other mans logic. Jess looked at him curiously but Becker refused to meet her eyes. Was it just her or were his cheeks a little darker than normal?

"No Captain," Marty said, shaking his head, "You and Jess both will be doing the ladies, and then you will both be doing the mens. Don't forget to put a 'cleaning in progress' sign up outside when you're doing the job. Don't want either of you startling some poor sod coming in to have a pee."

To say the look on Becker's face was strained was an understatement as the other two men bid their goodbyes and walked off. Jess barely managed to hold back her laughter, trying to help him maintain his dignity.

"Let's get started then shall we?" she said, cheerily (hopefully not too cheerfully though, after all, she didn't want him getting the idea she actually LIKED cleaning toilets...although, cleaning toilets with Becker was a definite upside to the job).

**_Thatcher and Connor_**

_"_So..." Connor said with a grin, already anticipating how much enjoyment he'd get from this, "How do you like being a cleaner? Do you have fun? I bet you guys do lots of cool stuff when no-one else is around yeah? Like slide down the railings and stuff."

The other guy, Thatcher, simply raised his eyebrows "Not quite." He said with a smirk. The way he said it, Connor couldn't help but wonder whether or not the group of cleaners weren't doing something that was not in the 'book of cleaners guidelines' or whatever other rule-book they had.

Tugging the sides of his jeans awkwardly as he walked, he decided to try a different tactic to engage in conversation "So...you got a girlfriend?" he said innocently.

"Yes...no," The taller man said, with an embarrassed frown and a glare sent in his direction, "What kind of question is that?"

Connor waved the question away with his hand, "Oh just an everyday, average question," he replied, looking at Thatcher slyly, "Hmm a yes and a no, are you normally this confused? Or is it her?"

He took a small amount of glee in the mortified look on the other man's face. Oh the days when he used to look like that in regards to Abby. How young they were. "She's...we're...I'm...No ok. The answer's no." Thatcher sputtered.

"Right, right." Connor replied, nodding wisely, "I'm guessing she works here then and you haven't let her in on the fact that you love her then." BAM. Connor smirked, deciding that he really was just too good at this as he noted the look of surprise on the younger man's face. Score:1 for Connor Temple. Oh this was TOO much fun. Now he knew how everyone felt when they teased him about Abby all those years ago.

Suddenly, Thatcher stopped in front of a door with the label 'Laundry' and a look that could only be construed as relief flashed across his face. Promptly followed by a look of smug satisfaction. That did not bode well. "Here you are Mr Temple." Thatcher said, WAY too cheerfully. Suddenly, Connor doubted very much that he should have teased the younger, stronger cleaner.

_**Penny and Abby**_

Abby had never really realised how much of a mess the menagerie workers made when cleaning the pens and caring for the animals. She (and Penny for that matter) were used to the smell, but it seemed Thatcher and Connor (Connor especially) found the scent of prehistoric creature faeces 'en masse' quite unbearable.

A fact demonstrated when he walked into the laundry rooms, took one whiff of one of the baskets labelled, 'unwashed', and promptly turned green. "Oh Abby, I don't feel too good about this," he said, stepping away from the pile and holding his nose.

"Connor, we lived a year in the Cretaceous, surely you can survive a few hours in a laundry yeah?" Abby said with a smile and took his hand, leading him further into the room.

Penny and Thatcher stood with them there for a few moments instructing them on their tasks, before going their separate ways to their own, new jobs.

"A few hours?" He asked, a little sarcastically once the others were gone, "This looks like it could take weeks to finish!"

Abby had to admit, he did have a point there. There was a lot to do, and just seeing it, she couldn't imagine doing this job every day for her whole life. "C'mon Connor, let's just get started." she said with a sigh, "Sooner it's started, sooner it's finished yeah?"


	13. The Joys Of Cleaning

**A/N:** Howdy everyone! So I'm sure you have all been interested to learn what exactly it is that our core-team-turned-cleaners will get up to in their new jobs, and here it is. We're back to my regular chapter-length and it is my sincere hope that you will enjoy the chewing gum as much as I did ;)

_Next chapter:_ cleaners-turned-core-team! Also, so far, it's looking like there will be 5 more chapters for this story, and a companion one-shot posted as a separate story :)

(Also - just letting you know, all my disclaimers for my story are on my profile page and I only say them once - that's why I haven't got them ever on here! :))

To my **Guest** reviewer: Ugh you don't have an account so I couldn't reply in person! Thanks so much for your review and I'm glad you're enjoying it so much! Hope this was fast enough for you!

Thanks to all my lovely reviewers, you guys are wonderful! :)

This chapter is dedicated to Mr & Mrs Ben Mansfield (Who just got married in August apparently :P) I wish them all the best, and hope they have a very happy life together!

Enjoy!

* * *

XIII. The Joys Of Cleaning

* * *

**_Matt and Emily_**

"Matt, you say that this 'sucks up' the dirt." Emily said, peering at the nozzle of the vacuum cleaner in her hands, "How does it do so?"

The man looked up from the bin he was currently emptying into a large plastic bag and saw her staring curiously into the vacuum cleaner. Allowing himself a small smile, he walked over and gently took it from her hands, explaining how it worked.

"Debris comes in through here, swirls around the chamber here and gets compacted. Once the chamber is full, you empty it." Matt said, pointing to each of the parts in turn.

The expression Emily got when she was thinking hard and committing new concepts to memory covered her features, and Matt couldn't quite believe how lucky he was, "Yes, I think I understand," she said, chocolate eyes rising to meet his with a smile, "It seems a much more efficient way of dust gathering than-" Then he turned it on.

Emily's mouth dropped open in horror and her hands flew to her ears, "The sound is painful! How can people not wear protection for their ears when using this tool?!" she yelled above the roar of the vacuum, her hands still on her head when he switched the machine off.

"They get used to it," he shrugged, smiling at her kindly. "Maybe you should do the bins and I should vacuum?"

Immediately, Emily relaxed and smiled, "Thank you Matt." she said simply, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth before grabbing a garbage bag and racing from the room. He couldn't help but laugh softly to himself as she went; and switched the vacuum cleaner back on, shaking his head as he began the long process of cleaning.

**_Jess and Becker_**

**_"_**The next person I see snacking on chewing gum will be doing 150 push-ups.**" **Becker growled from the stall next to her; and Jess couldn't help snigger at his pained tone.

"What if they're not part of the military aspect of things?" she asked cheekily, taking out a tiny parcel from one of the pockets in her dress under the overalls she was wearing.

Becker made some sort of disgusted sound as the stall beside her jangled on its hinges when he tried to pries said chewing gun off the door. "I don't care if they're a visitor, NO-ONE is going to be eating chewing gum." POP.

All movement and noise from the stall beside her stilled at the sound, and so Jess did it again. Pushing the gum to the front of her mouth, blowing a bubble, before popping it with her tongue once more with another loud, satisfying POP. Still no movement from next door.

Smirking at her own deviousness, Jess began the process once more. She had just blown a rather large bubble (her largest yet) when Becker's head appeared under the stall partition, eyebrows raised. Jess froze, eyes wide and innocent (however, the large bubble coming from her mouth seemed to ruin that image).

"Jessica, what exactly do you think you are doing?" Becker said evenly, hazel eyes taking in her form, sitting the toilet, blowing her bubblegum.

POP. (Well she couldn't very well NOT pop it could she?) "Nothing Becker," she said innocently, "Just passing the time."

"Passing the time?! What- hang on a second, aren't we - you more precisely, supposed to be working?" he asked, apparently mortified that rule-following Miss Jessica Parker wasn't doing her job to the letter, like she normally did. "Weren't you listening to me when I said the next person I see snacking on chewing gum is going to do 150-push ups?"

Jess merely smiled at him, blowing and popping another bubble. "Oh don't worry, I'm simply taking a mini-break," she smiled sweetly at him, and noted with satisfaction how wide his eyes were. "And thankfully for me, this is not chewing gum, it's bubble gum Becker!" she remarked happily, clapping her hands together, "Now if you don't mind," she smirked, nudging his head delicately with the toe of her shoe, as she stood up and moved to exit the stall, "I have work to do." and with that, Jess blew and popped another bubble, relishing the sight of Becker's eyes nearly crossing in horror as she skipped out to the sinks.

Jess was just getting out the mop and water to wash the floors when she felt a tall, looming presence behind her, "Jessica Parker, I suggest you hand over your stash of bubblegum immediately before I remove it myself." at the sound of that deep voice, the overall-clad field coordinator whirled around to find herself face-to-face with another, rather broad overall-clad chest (he really could wear anything well couldn't he?).

Slowly she drew her eyes up to meet the hazel stare of Captain Becker, and promptly popped another bubble. Jess saw something flash in his eyes, an expression she hadn't noticed him wear before; then slowly, he smirked, placing his arms either side of her, leaning on the cart behind her. "I gave you fair warning Miss Parker."

Jess couldn't help herself, she had to pop another bubble, "Becker I-" she began innocently, but was cut off when two, large strong hands encircled her waist and began tickling her mercilessly, to her hysterical laughter.

**_Connor and Abby_**

Connor groaned, "I am NEVER doing the washing again." he muttered as he pushed his fifth load of washing into the machine, picking up the wet clothes he had just removed from it and moving to put them in the dryer, the muscles on his back protesting.

"I don't think I've seen you do this much exercise in a while Connor," Abby smirked, pressing the heat button on her own dryer.

"Eh, I have too!" her fiancé replied, mock-horrified as he sauntered over to her, "I'll have you know I'm very athletic...kinda...occasionally..."

"Whatever Connor," Abby smirked in reply as she wrapped her arms about his neck and pulled him down for a long, slow kiss. Minutes later, when they broke apart, Connor took his fiancé by the hand and gently tugged her towards the door.

"C'mon Abby, we need a break from this," he smiled, and gave a silent cheer when she nodded, "We'll come back later yeah?"

"Course Connor, now lets go find out what the others are doing." Abby replied cheerfully, taking the lead and dragging him off through the corridors. It was several twists and turns later (after all, they had no idea where the others were) that they came across a 'cleaning in progress' sign outside one of the ladies toilets.

It wasn't so much the sign itself that caused them to be curious, but the quiet laughter and murmuring that came from the bathroom. Abby and Connor looked at one another, their eyebrows raised, before grinning and going off to investigate, all thoughts of finding Matt and Emily gone.

On the count of three, the pair slammed the door open, startling the other core-team members inside. "Now just what do you think the two of you are doing?" Abby asked cheekily, taking in a certain Captain Becker, and Miss Jessica Parker sitting on the floor in the corner of the bathroom (rather close together in fact). Blowing bubblegum bubbles. Of all things

"Abby, the amount of chewing gum on the door of the stalls in the ladies bathroom is disgraceful," Becker said stiffly, scrambling to his feet and jerking Jess off him in his haste to get to his feet, spitting the bubblegum from his mouth into his hand in the process "I suggest you have a word with the female staff here at the ARC please." Jess got to her feet awkwardly behind him and stepped up beside him.

They stood there for a moment, like guilty schoolchildren caught in the act, before Becker made his escape "Yes, well, I have to ahem, get something from the storage rooms" he mumbled, pushing past Abby and Connor on his way out the door, and leaving Jess standing in the middle of the room with her hands on hips, a rather displeased look on her face.

"You guys really are quite mean to him," Jess said, her eyes narrowed, "I'm surprised he hasn't cracked from all the teasing you do!"

Abby waved a hand dismissively, "Oh don't worry, he's a big strong boy, I'm sure he'll be fine," she said, before focusing once more on the point at hand, "However, I would like to know what it is exactly the two of you were doing in here. It didn't look like cleaning to me."

"Yeah, isn't that a bit dirty, sitting on the floors Jess?" Connor asked, surprised and a little horrified at the young field-coordinators lack of regard for hygiene issues (which she usually followed to the letter). Abby just rolled her eyes at her partners tangent, and focused once more on the younger woman.

Jess sniffed depreciatingly, ignoring them as she raised her nose in the air, stalking past the pair, and avoiding their knowing smirks, "Of course not Connor!" she said haughtily, turning on her heel, "I just washed the floor!"


	14. Exhaustive Measures

**A/N:** Just realised I've been writing a lot of this story listening to Lindsey Stirling, a very talented violinist from America. One song, "Moon Trance' in particular is something that I've been bobbing my head to the whole time :P (If you don't mind violin playing with dubstep check it out - it's quite interesting and original in my opinion!)

This is really just a filler chapter (as much as I hate them!) But there a few things to explain and tie together before things really start to happen ;)

Thanks so much to all of you that reviewed last chapter! :D

Enjoy!

* * *

XIV. Exhaustive Measures

* * *

I yawned tiredly as I made my way down to the hub. It was now 11:00 AM and quite frankly, I was utterly exhausted. On a normal day, I would only be waking up in another couple hours, about to get started on my 'day'.

Instead, I was walking around the ARC in broad daylight (the horror!) acting like I was supposed to be there. It was not logical, reasonable, or truthfully, safe. Deciding on my course of action, I changed direction to Lester's office.

"Mr Lester?" I questioned awkwardly, stepping through the door.

James Lester barely glanced up from his papers and continued reading, "You know, I always thought that the idea of having a door was that people would knock before they just waltzed in." He mused sardonically.

I blushed a little at his comment, but firmly told myself to harden up. I'm not some little panicky schoolgirl that's done something wrong - I'm a woman concerned about her colleagues! With that thought in my mind, I cleared my throat, "Sorry Sir," I said formally, standing straight, "but I thought it an urgent matter which I had to discuss with you."

Lester looked up at that and leaned back in his chair, hands folded above his abdomen, "Very well then. Go on." he commanded, sounding almost bored as he waved his hand dismissively, "I guess there's not much point telling you to knock if you're already in here anyway."

I ground my teeth and nodded, he really was a sarcastic little man. "Well Sir. I don't think this 'job swap' on our end of things is such a good idea." His eyebrow went up at that, but I pushed doggedly onwards, "Some of us do have military training, but I still feel that it would be unwise to send us into the field so unprepared and tired - after all, the five of us have not slept in 24 hours Sir."

I took a deep breath, I wasn't done yet. "As such, I would ask, that if, by any chance, there is an anomaly, you let one of the other teams handle it Sir."

"Quite right Miss Sommerbush, thank you! It's already done," He said, returning to his paperwork and waving his hand dismissively, "Run along now and find your little friends - do whatever you find fitting."

I walked out of Lester's office feeling a little miffed. Him just brushing me off like that. He could have told me if he had already made that decision! Feeling rather aggravated, I stalked back to Matts office - my office for the day. Unsure of what to do with myself I sat blankly at the desk, staring at the fronds of palms and leaves of other plants that filled the room.

I couldn't help but shake my head, he really had a thing for plants, the place looked like a jungle. I find, that I have a problem. My mind is always running at a million miles an hour, always pushing and thinking. As such, I always need to be doing something productive. I can't just sit around idly doing nothing all day - which is exactly what I was doing.

There had been no anomalies - there wouldn't be any that we needed to worry about, and it just didn't feel right going through Matt's personal paperwork. Groaning, I pushed back from the table and leaned into the chair.

You wouldn't think something so shiny and metallic could be so comfortable. Lester had, after all, said to do whatever I found to be 'fitting'. A nap might just be fitting. Catch up on all those lost hours of sleep.

Of course I had no such luck. First, John wanted me to come up and see his progress with some new type of scan to check all systems (didn't vaguely interest me of course, but I couldn't say no to the poor dear).

Then, Marty wanted me to see the new exercises he had designed for Becker's security team (I'm not sure the Captain would much like anyone changing his method of training, but then again he probably wasn't doing a very good job of cleaning the toilets anyway and we'd have to fix that tomorrow).

Thatcher - I won't even go into what Thatcher wanted. I walked into the gym, took one look at those hard abs working on the equipment, drooled, realised what I was doing and high-tailed it out of there.

Penny, Penny, Penny. She thought, as I was 'team leader' she should make me aware of every single creature that lived in the menagerie. I'm quite certain she now believes Abby has the best job in the world.

By the time I got back to Matt's office I had had a grand total of 0 hours sleep and 5 and a half hours of running around letting everyone tell me exactly what they were doing. To say I was exhausted was an understatement. I thought perhaps I could get a few minutes of rest, but again no luck. As soon as I sat down in my chair, the watch on my wrist beeped, the alarm signalling it was time for lunch.

Sighing in resignation that I was not going to be able to catch a few minutes rest, I slowly made my way down to the cafeteria where I knew the others would be waiting. I had called a break from whatever tasks they had been doing twenty minutes ago and asked them to the lunch room for just that - lunch (although, truth be told, it felt awkward eating lunch per se, since I was normally asleep at this time).

The other cleaners were all gathered at one of the tables and immediately turned to me when I walked in the door. "Well well, if it isn't our illustrious team leader!" Marty smirked, shuffling over in his seat so I could sit between him and Thatcher, "Come to tell us how it is exactly you managed to resist informing us on your ex-MI6 status?"

"Yeah! Forget Bonnie Parker, we have our own live Bond right here!" Thatcher snickered and I glared at him, pretending to be annoyed.

I sniffed, "Bond? Who's Bond? I'm Sommerbush. Lark Sommerbush." I said loftily.

Thatcher laughed and threw an arm around me, much to my surprise (and to my horror - eliciting a blush). "I can see it now - you flying around the world saving men in distress" he snickered, "Right 007 you are."

I raised my eyebrow at him, but didn't move to shove his arm off (what was I doing?). "I'll have you know working with MI6 doesn't always involve running around getting shot at, jumping off tall buildings and seducing people Thatcher."

"Really? Oh well, that's a shame...you could make SOME exceptions though couldn't you?" he whispered, his head so close to my ear I don't think anyone else could hear. Come to think of it, I don't even think I heard correctly!

Another voice jerked me from my pondering, "What sort of missions did you do?" John asked, seemingly very interested

I gave the bespectacled man a severe look, "That's classified John." I rebuked trying not to smile at his blush.

"Oh, right. Course." He mumbled, obviously embarrassed, "Why did you become a cleaner then, Lark?"

I stopped smiling immediately and cursed my stupidity. Of course they'd want to know why I left. "It's simple John, I couldn't hack life as an agent and so I left." I replied as casually as I could, hoping that they would drop it. But of course, I have no such luck.

"You? Couldn't hack it? Really? You?" Thatcher's brows shot up, and he stared at me disbelievingly, "Come on Lark, don't lie to us, we're your friends."

I glared at him, but he simply smiled softly back. Finally I gave in and sighed, "Alright fine, the job ran in the family. My father was an MI6 agent as well and I always wanted to follow in his footsteps." I said, doing what I did best, detaching myself from all emotion, "I did just that, but then, he cracked one day. Had to be put in a mental hospital. I didn't want that happening. I couldn't hack life as an agent, I realised my sense of humor was the only thing that kept me normal, so I quit."

The others were silent for a moment as they considered what I had told them. "How long did you serve?" Marty asked, his expression curious.

"Two years of training, one of service." I replied automatically.

John pushed his glasses further back onto the bridge of his nose, "I still can't quite believe it - it just seems so...un-Lark like...MI6. Did you go overseas anywhere during that time?" The look I gave him clearly told him my response to that question and he quickly backed down, "Uhhh, no...don't answer that...course, you can't tell me."

"Did you ever kill anyone?" Penny asked softly from the corner. It was the first question she had asked, and the one I was both most, and least prepared for. I couldn't answer them. However, this time, it was for a completely different reason. I didn't need to say anything anyway. They already knew. I did nothing to hide the sadness in my eyes.

This was not a conversation I wanted to have. Awkwardly, I cleared my throat and stood up, Thatcher's hand falling from it's place around my waist and leaving me feeling decidedly cold. "Look, I've got to go do some cataloguing, I'll see you all before I leave ok?" I said, not bothering to wait for an answer before I walked out of the room.


	15. What If We Tried

A/N: I wrote a fair bit of this listening to the song 'Sleepsong' by Secret Garden and playing 'RainyMood' (both availible on youtube) at the same time - it was very soothing!

Tried writing Emily here - lets see what you think. Oh and beware...it might get a little angsty at the end :P To conclude; I just finished writing this story and it's 17 chapters long in total :D

Thanks so much to all of you that reviewed! Muchos gracias amigos!

Enjoy! :)

* * *

XV. What If We Tried?

* * *

_Emily walked into the hub, her eyes bright. She had enjoyed this 'job swap' immensely, and wondered it perhaps they could not do it again, at a later date. She had learned a lot, doing the jobs of the cleaners, and perhaps the others had too._

_Covertly, Emily stole a glance at the rest of the team. Abby and Connor were smiling, walking hand in hand as they made their way back to the hub, joking about something or another. _

_Her eyes narrowed as she looked at Becker and Jess. Years traveling through the anomalies had made her perceptive, and something here was different. Perhaps it was the way they walked, a little closer together, arms brushing against one another as they made their way down the corridor. Perhaps in the way they would steal glances at one another, faint smiles on their lips. Perhaps it was the fact that Abby and Connor would occasionally turn, risking a glance in their direction before putting their heads together and snickering. _

_Yes. Something had definitely occurred while they were cleaning, and later, when the time was right she would ask Jess and find out exactly what it was. Or she could always ask Abby._

_Deciding on that course of action, Emily's eyes drifted to the man at her side and she couldn't help but smile. Somehow she doubted life in this time would be as enjoyable if Matt were not there to share it with her. Gently, she slipped her fingers in his, and he replied by looking over at her giving a soft smile and a gentle squeeze. No. Nowhere near as enjoyable. _

_The five cleaners were all assembled in the hub; like us, waiting for Lester. Emily frowned to herself, they looked rather tired, and it took her a few moments to realise that they had been awake now for over 24 hours. What had Lester been thinking?_

_It was only when everyone had settled themselves somewhere in the hub that the man himself finally appeared. "So good of you all to finally make an appearance." Lester remarked dryly, "This is the time when one normally says things like 'good work', 'made me proud' etcetera etcetera, but I figure you know it all already, so I shouldn't have to say it. Go home all of you and sleep. I want you all here at your normal times tomorrow or you're all fired, the lot of you."_

_The regular chorus of 'Yes Lester''s and the newer 'Yes Sir''s rang out as each individual made their way to the exits. One person in particular caught Emily's eye, and she let go of Matt's hand, promising to meet him at the car before heading off towards the cleaner Lark._

_"Lark," she said, going up to the younger woman confidently, "I would like to thank you for today. I enjoyed completing your tasks immensely, and I am pleased you thought to let me help you."_

_Lark looked a little surprised, "It wasn't anything to do with me, but you're most welcome Emily." she smiled, walking with her to the exit, "I'm sure Matt was glad of the help."_

_Emily smiled, in reply "Why yes, I do believe he was." she said, looking over to the Irishman fondly. Out of the corner of her eye, Emily noticed as Lark smiled to herself, and she bid the other woman farewell. Heading over to the man that waited to take her home._

• • •

When I collapsed into my bed that night, I couldn't stop the dreams that spilled over. I had been without nightmares for so long, but the events of the day had changed that. In my dreams I relived every moment that I so longed to forget, and when I did wake, reality itself felt haunted and like a dream.

I woke the next day at my normal time - 4:00 PM (not that I had actually slept much). And began to get ready for work. Every task felt menial, so hard. Even the simple job of putting the kettle on to make a pot of tea took effort. Suddenly, there was a knock at my door and when I opened it, I found Thatcher standing there, leaning against the doorframe.

"Uhhh...hello." I said, more than a little awkwardly. I wondered briefly how he knew where I lived, but then realised I'd had a Christmas party at my place a year after starting at the ARC.

"Hello." came the gentle reply. Well that was an excellent explanation (NOT) as to why he was standing in my doorway. "May I come in for a moment?" That was even better (NOT).

No you can't Thatcher. "Of course, come in." I said, stepping back and opening the door wider. There really needs to be a better link between thoughts and actions I think. "What's up Thatcher?"

The man stepped further into the room and let his eyes sweep over it's contents before settling once more on me. Thatcher passed a hand over his neck, and I realised, studying his body language as I shut the door behind me, that everything he was doing screamed nervousness. What on earth did he have to be nervous about?

"You look terrible." he said with a frown, furrows forming on his forehead, "Are you alright?"

I sighed, walking across the room past him, "I'm fine Thatcher." I snapped, a little harsher than I intended; he backtracked and feeling a little sorry I sent him an apologetic smile, "Just tired is all."

"Right, ok." Thatcher replied, his eyes wary, not quite believing me. I'm not quite sure how long we stood like that, just watching each other. He was staring intently at me, as if waiting for something

Finally, I decided enough was enough and broke the silence, "So Thatcher, do you-" I didn't even get to finish. What is it with men and cutting other people off mid-sentence? Thatcher took two long strides towards me, and before I could think, he had pulled me to him and crushed his lips against mine.

He wrapped his arms around my waist. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders. He pulled me closer. And I pressed myself harder to him. It just felt so perfect. His arms around me. His lips pressed against mine- No. This couldn't be happening.

"I can't." I cried out, tearing myself away. Snatching myself from the brink I was just moments away from throwing myself over.

He looked so confused. (I could kind of understand why - five milliseconds ago I had been in his arms and now I was five feet away) "What do you mean?" he asked slowly, stepping closer. With every step forwards I took one step back.

"Thatcher I-" I tried to say but he cut me off (again damn him!), realisation slowly dawning, his face growing stony.

"No, don't fret yourself I know exactly what you mean." he said, his voice deadpan, the anger in his eyes growing stronger by the minute, "You have feelings for me Lark and you're just too scared to admit it!"

He stepped closer, but I took another step back, if I let him too close again I wouldn't be able to push him away. "Do not!" That came out wrong, I sounded like a guilty child. I tried again, "You're kidding yourself Thatcher."

"Don't lie to me Lark," he snarled, and abruptly I froze. The laughing, teasing, always smiling Thatcher never yelled. I had never heard him sound so angry, so furious, and it shocked me, that I had been the cause of it. "Don't you dare lie to me."

I couldn't even look him in the eye. The anger had drained out of him and all that was left was disappointment. It cut me deeper than his fury ever could. Why did I insist on pushing him away part of me asked, and another part said it was for the best. Creating relationships with people, letting them in was just asking for trouble. It would only ever end in heartache. Someone would end up getting hurt. I'd seen it time and time again

"Please leave." I heard a voice say, and it took a few moments for me to realise that the voice was mine. The look he gave me nearly broke my heart. It was so full of hurt and betrayal that I nearly gave in there and then. But I withheld. Without another word to me, he slowly turned and walked to the door, taking the handle in his hand.

"You know, for all this thing you've got going trying to get Becker to admit his feelings - you're the one who refuses to do exactly that Lark." Thatcher said, stopping at the door and turning back to me, his lovely eyes sad. "You and Becker, you're like two peas in a pod."

With that, Thatcher Harding walked out of my apartment, and I was once more, alone. Something warm and wet slid down my cheek and I brushed at it in annoyance. I, Lark Sommerbush, ex-MI6 agent and cleaner extraordinaire never cried, and yet, this man, this insufferable man had managed to reduce me to tears in only a few moments.

_It's because what he says is true_ the tiny voice that lived in the corners of my mind whispered.

Finally, sitting in the dark of my apartment, I realised just how right he was. I had joined MI6 for the glory of serving my country. I had excelled in my training to prove just how good I was. I had left MI6 because I thought too much of my image to reduce myself to what my father had become.

I became a cleaner to slip from attention, yet still managed to dominate others; the people who called me friend. I had even pushed away a man who, - for goodness sake - looked like a bloody supermodel and for some insane, utterly crazy reason, wanted me and not anyone else. All because I thought I couldn't depend on someone else for the first time in a very long time. I don't even know how I became so selfish, so conceited.

Thatcher was right. Thatcher was so right! Suddenly, my brain was flooded with memories. All the soft smiles he had given me. The gentle teasing. The light brushes of his hands on mine. The kiss when we were hiding from Matt.

Everything came back to me, and suddenly I felt light-headed in my realisation. I was in love with the man who had just walked out of my home, tired and angry. I had done that. Shaking myself out of my self-pity, I jerked myself to my feet and ran out of the flat, hoping against all hope that he hadn't gone far.

Just as I was about to round the corner to the elevator, I stopped, cursing when I felt the absence of wallet and keys. Growling in frustration, I turned back to my apartment to get them.

Suddenly, I froze, seeing movement just out of the corner of my eye. A loud hissing noise that sent shivers running up and down my spine reached my ears, before turning to a roar. I didn't even have time to scream.


	16. Too Tired To Fight

**A/N:** Well, well, well peeps, here's the big chapter you're all waiting for! Posting a little earlier than usual tonight! Lets see what happened shall we?

Thanks so much to all of you that reviewed!

Enjoy!

* * *

_XVI. Too Tired To Fight_

* * *

_Becker and the team sped around the corner in their SUV's to the building, "It's an civilian apartment building, lifts are out of order," Jess said crisply over the comms, suddenly, there was a hint of confusion to her voice,"I've already sent out the evacuation order - no-one should still be inside."_

_"Thanks Jess, can you see the anomaly?" Becker asked with a frown._

_"Yes - God, guys, you had better get up there quick! It's huge!" Jess said, amazed, "We have a creature incursion on level 5! It looks like a giant lizard - one of those things you see on discovery channel all the time - from Indonesia Abby."_

_The core team looked at each other in confusion for a minute before Abby hazarded a guess, "Komodo Dragon Jess?"_

_"That's it!" The field coordinator said happily, "But much, much larger."_

_"Oh, guys!" Connor said excitedly, turning to the others, "It sounds like a Megalania - an ancestor of the Komodo dragon that once roamed through Pleistocene age Australia."_

_Becker rolled his eyes, "Now's not really the time to go nerdy on all of us Connor - need to know facts please," he said testily, "Is it carnivorous?"_

_"Oh definitely!" the other man said matter-of-factly, "7 meters long on average, and 1,940kg's of pure killing muscle. Also you might like to know, that similarly to Komodo dragons, Megalania possessed toxin-secreting oral glands. Wouldn't want to get bitten by one of those guys - if you know what I mean."_

_Connor finally realised, as he finished his spiel, that the others were looking at him in what could only be called distaste. "Just wonderful," Becker growled, pulling out his EMD, "a lizard that's completely unkissable. Just what I needed. Let's go."_

_"Guys!" They could hear Jess' startled voice on the comms, "You'd better get up there quickly! I did another sweep of the CCTV footage from inside the building and there's someone still up there!"_

_"Where are they Jess?" Matt asked urgently as they raced into the building._

_"In one of the rooms on the same floor as the creature." came the reply, "Room 483."_

_"We're on it-" Matt said, only to be cut off by Jess' gasp._

_Immediately, Becker was concerned, "Jess, what is it?" he asked worriedly._

_"You're not going to like this everyone." she replied, her voice horrified, "The person still up there is our cleaner, Lark Sommerbush."_

• • •

I pressed a shaky hand to my forehead, trying not to look at the blood that covered my palm. Heaving with the effort (for some reason, my legs felt like jelly), I dragged myself over to where I knew my first aid kit was, and pulled out a small tourniquet.

Biting my lip at the pain, I wrapped the plastic-fabric around my upper thigh and tightened it, inch by excruciating inch. The pain was almost unbearable, but I had to stop the blood loss or I'd simply fall asleep and never wake up.

I could still hear the lizard hissing outside my room as the shadows began to cloud around my mind. It knew I was in here. It had tasted my blood, could still smell it on the air - it and I both knew it was only a matter of time.

Suddenly, the hissing got louder, more enraged. I could hear voices outside, followed by several EMD blasts and a massive thump. The door creaked open and the first person I saw was Captain Becker, EMD in hand. Never had I been so glad to see the man.

Becker took one look at me before speaking into his comms, "She's here, and Jess, we'll need medics fast."

"Took your time getting here." I wheezed, knowing I must have looked a fright. I could even feel it myself - how pale I was. The others rushed into the room and stared at me in horror, "Little help please."

Emily frowned at the others and came straight over, Matt on my other side, helping me get to my feet. "What exactly do you think you were doing Sommerbush?!" Becker barked, frowning, I could hear a whisper that was Jess saying something over comms, probably in my defense, but Becker just frowned harder, "No Jess, don't defend her. What were you doing coming here? You might have been MI6 once, but you're not core team or even security for that matter, you're a bloody cleaner! Explain how you got it into your head that-"

"Becker shut up," I said wearily, feeling the energy drain more and more from my body as the others and I made our way past him, "I live here you dimwit. This is my apartment. Get Jess to check the files if you think it necessary."

"Oh..." he said, looking a little chagrined. It's fair to say, had the situation been any less serious (or painful), I would have sniggered at his expression. As it was, I made it ten steps into the hall before I could no longer see straight, and could walk no further.

• • •

The medics were beside me, their faces grim as they pulled me to the waiting ambulance. Dimly I remembered hearing Connor talk about the Megalania, it's relation to the Komodo Dragon, and the venom in it's bite.

They had gotten it back through the anomaly, that was one small thing at least. There was something I had to say, before I left. Something I had to do. Frantically, I looked around me, searching for the Head of Security.

He was there, with talking quietly to Emily on my left. "Becker," I croaked, but he didn't here, I tried again, louder, "Captain Becker-"

He turned, and the two made there way over, quickly sidestepping the frantic medics, "Yes?"

I beckoned him closer, using up more energy than I thought possible, "Need to tell you something." I rasped, my throat dry.

"It can wait-" Becker tried to say as Emily took one of my hands in hers.

"No, Captain it can't." I said with as much certainty as I could muster, "There's a bet running amongst the maintenance staff, on how long it will take you to ask Jess out." So there it was, out in the open. Emily watched both of us silently, observing as Becker's face visibly tightened and he frowned. Well, he was taking it a little better than I expected, no shouting or screaming so far. "My team and I, we've been trying to get you together for a month." I continued, feeling the numbness inch closer.

The look of shock was priceless, "You mean that was you-" he said, mouth hanging open in surprise "All that-"

I nodded my head, "Yes, It was my idea - quite a lot of money and all that, but that's not important." I coughed, I was running out of time. Already I could feel pinpricks in my hands, working my way up my arms, "We decided to do it because it was just so damn depressing seeing you sidestep your feelings for her."

I subsided into coughs, suddenly feeling very cold, "Miss Sommerbush, I think-" this time the frown on Becker's face was not one of displeasure, but of concern. I had to interrupt him, before he continued, simply so I could finish.

"Captain Becker, you have to tell Jess, how you feel-" I wheezed, desperately trying to get my point across. I could feel my body failing and I needed him to realise that every second counted.

"It's alright Lark, you don't have to worry about that now." he said gently, none of his usual arrogance surrounding him. He used my name. That only confirmed what I already knew. It was bad. I could almost feel the poison seeping faster and faster up my body towards my heart.

"No Becker" I snarled, grabbing my hand in his own and squeezing so hard I heard his fingers crack (not that I really cared, I had far more important things to worry about). "You have to tell her you love her, don't regret never telling her how much she means to you, before it was too late. Don't make the same mistake I did."

Emiliy reached over and snapped her fingers in front of my face, drawing my attention to her, "Hey, hey, it will be alright Lark,' she smiled, her eyes growing liquid, as she placed a trembling hand against my cheek, "You'll see."

I smiled sadly, suddenly, it was so very very hard to breathe. In. Out. In. "Tell him- tell Thatcher-" I tried to finish, but the darkness that had been tugging at the corners of my mind crept up, the world fading around me, as the sky turned to black.

* * *

**A/N:**

**THE END...**

Just Kidding...HEHEHEH - I'm so bad ;)

Don't shoot me please! (If you do I won't be able to post the last chapter after all... :P Blackmail I know) Also, I might be persuaded to update again when I get home tonight - but only if you're desperate ;)

OK so just letting you know **Megalania** is in fact a prehistoric lizard from Australia, (couldn't help but add a little Aussie reference in there! XD ) thought to be the ancestor of the modern day Komodo Dragon, they are in fact, very similar in appearance. When referencing them however, there is an eensy weensy problem. No complete skeleton exists so paleontologists can't tell it's exact size. In 2002, Stephen Wroe suggested that the species had a maximum length of 4.5m with a weight of 331kg. However, in 2004, Ralph Molnar suggested that the species had a max length of 7m with a weight of 1,940kg (hugely different I know). I have decided to use the 2004 version of the creature for the fic - bigger and scarier ;) (after all, that's what the producers did with the Gorgonopsid in season 1 ;) )

When hunting, a Komodo Dragon bites its prey, letting it run off, and tracking it down as it slowly dies and becomes too weak to fight back. Recent studies have shown that instead of the Komodo Dragon killing it's prey by inducing septicemia (thanks to the many colonies of bacteria living in it's mouth); it actually uses a special kind of venom in toxin-secreting oral glands - just like it's ancestor the Megalania. Further research is being done into this presently.

Komodo Dragon venom/bites in victims cause an inhibition of blood clotting, lowering of blood pressure, muscle paralysis, and the induction of hypothermia, leading to shock and loss of consciousness in envenomated prey. There are however, instances of people surviving such attacks (that is, if they don't get eaten first!) without loss of limb through proper medical treatment such as antibiotics, and blood transfusions (although they do end up with some pretty nasty scars!)

Also, if anyone's curious, the tourniquet Lark used is a Combat/Self-Applied Tourniquet commonly used by the military - pics on google!

Yes, I went a little research crazy - but hey - why not! Hope you liked this chapter - tell me what you think! What's going to happen? Is our beloved Lark going to pass or will she stick around to tell Thatcher exactly what she thinks?


	17. If Only

**A/N:** Hello all my lovely readers! So we have (17 chapters later) reached the end of 'The Cleaners Strike Back' and I just want to thank all of you who have stuck with me on this - my first fanfiction - especially: **L.C Doyle **, **fairepeacock**, **Mijo54**, **YouHaveLovelyHair**, **DrawnToDarkness**, **Rubytronix**, **Prawn Crackers**, **SandyLee Potts**, **TsukiBooks**, **FLUFF-N-UTTER-1**, and **Janve** for reviewing so much it made my eyes water (in a good way! :P) and also to the rest of you that favourited/followed. I never thought I'd make 100 reviews! Yay! Thank you so much, you all really made the story worth writing. :)

I have posted a companion (insertable) chapter as a separate story with this chapter, entitled 'What Happened In The Ladies Room - Extended Scene'. Feel free to peruse as you see fit ;)

Finally, 'Give Me Love' by Ed Sheeran is a good song to have when reading this chapter :)

Enjoy!

* * *

XVII. If Only

* * *

_The first thing Becker did when he got back to the ARC was to check in with Jess over the comms whether or not the other cleaners had arrived yet. The answer was yes. This was one of the parts of his job he hated the most._

_The four other cleaners were in their storage room when he entered. The ex-military cleaner, Marty; was standing against the lockers talking to the other female cleaner and snickering about something or another while the computer-geek slash cleaner had his nose buried in his laptop. _

_The last cleaner was sitting on the couch, staring moodily into thin air; and looked up when he walked in. Becker didn't fail to notice the flicker of disappointment in Thatcher's - if he remembered his name correctly - eyes when he didn't turn out to be Lark._

_Becker swallowed hard; setting his face in it's impenetrable stone mask and steeling himself for the task ahead. It was only afterwards, when he was walking back to the hub that he realised he hadn't turned his comms off and the muffled noises that were coming from the equipment in his ear was Jess._

_"Jess?" Becker murmured when he reached her place at the ADD, her small form hidden by the large red chair she sat in. Immediately she swiveled around and threw herself at him, sobbing, and uncaring of anyone that saw them._

_Quietly, he stood there, just holding her to him as she cried. "Shhhhhh," he whispered into her hair, "It's ok, I'm here."_

_Jess sniffled, pulling away a little and looking up at him with red-rimmed, wide blue eyes, "Oh Becker, it's just so SAD," she whispered to him, "Did you see Thatcher?"_

_"Who?" he frowned, before realising the person she was taking about, "Oh yes - what about him?"_

_She sniffled again before burying her head in his chest. He could only just hear her muffled words through all the fabric. "They had a 'thing' - I saw them on the CCTV feeds - and you said she wanted you to tell Thatcher something but she never ended up being able to say it! Oh God!" Jess wailed, sobbing into his chest once more (he was starting to feel a bit damp actually), "It's like 'P.S. I Love You' but worse!"_

_"It'll all be ok, it's not over yet Jess." Becker replied soothingly, lifting her chin and wiping away her tears with a soft smile, "We just have to wait and see alright?_

_Tearfully she nodded to him, giving a watery smile that made his chest constrict. Lark, was right. Every second did count. After all, you never really did know how long you had left._

• • •

I awoke sometime during the day. The first thing I noticed was how bright the sun was shining through nearby windows - almost blinding me with it's yellow rays. The second thing I noticed was all the wires and chords, plugged into both my body and machines at any number of odd angles.

The third was a head of blondish-brown hair; tinted red and gold in the sunlight, resting next to my hand on the white sheets of the medical-bay bed. My breath caught in my throat.

Fearing it was a dream, I gently picked up my hand (surprisingly, that small move took a rather large amount of energy) and ran my fingers through Thatcher's hair. Oh God, I had wanted to do that for so long. It was exactly as soft and gorgeous as I thought it would be (Ok...that sounds a little creepy...).

Slowly, he began to stir and I let my hand fall back down onto the bed. Blue eyes blinked blearily up at me, taking a moment to realise that I was awake and watching his progress. Startled, Thatcher sat up and stared at me in shock.

"You're awake?" It was a question, not a statement, and I twisted my mouth into a wry smile.

"Of course I am silly, I'm looking right at you." I replied cheekily. Since when have I been 'cheeky'? It's either the near brush with death or all the drugs being pumped into my system making me talk like a teenager. "I'm glad you're here."

That caught him off guard, he frowned, eyes troubled, "Lark I-" he started to say, but I cut him off with a finger to his lips. After all, he'd done it often enough to me.

"I have to apologise Thatcher - I didn't mean what I said, the other-" I frowned, trying to work out how long I'd been in here and failed, "whenever it was."

The look in his eyes was almost thoughtful, and gently he took my finger off his lips, holding my hand in his, "What DID you mean then Lark?" he asked softly, running a finger up and down the length of my spine, sending delicious shivers up into my exhausted brain.

I look a deep breath, looking down for a moment before gathering the words I needed to say, "I meant to say: You were right. In all respects. I'm emotional retard - but you have to accept that there are reasons behind that." I said, shifting my gaze to look him in the eye. "You were also right when you said I have...feelings for you."

"It took a near death experience for you to admit that you know." Thatcher smirked, his eyes laughing. I rolled my eyes. Cocky Thatcher was back, but then again, would I have it any other way?

"I know that; and you know that you better kiss me before I change my mind." I said, (again with the cheekiness - note to self, get the medics to change the type of drug I'm on; and for safety, never have a brush with death again.)

His answering smile bowled me over, "You're the one in the hospital bed Miss Sommerbush, do you really think you should be the one telling me what to do?" Thatcher replied softly, leaning closer (obediently I might add - I was just that good).

"Yes I do actually," I whispered back with an answering smirk, just before his lips were about to meet mine.

"Lark!" Penny's girly voice shrieked happily from the curtain as she ran in. It's fair to say I nearly had a heart-attack and Thatcher nearly fell off his chair. Both of us blushing furiously. I tried to give my friend a glare, but failed miserably, smiling at her happily

Another deep voice spoke up from behind her, "Penny, this is a hospital - you're not supposed to go around yelling in these places!" Marty rebuked, giving the other a woman a frown that ticked at the edges up into a smile. John was right behind him, and my grin just got wider. It's funny what nearly dying does to make you appreciate things.

The people behind them...I did not expect so much. Becker. Jess. Emily. Matt. Connor and Abby. Oh lord, what were they doing here? My eyes flickered nervously to the Captain nervously. I have decided that the next time I'm in a near-death situation, I will not spill the beans about certain illicit activities...

"Lark, I am glad to see you are healing well." Becker said warmly, catching me off guard. Well that wasn't exactly what I was expecting...then again, he couldn't exactly murder me with so many other people in the room, he'd probably wait until they all left...

I could feel Thatcher stiffen beside me when the other man looked smiled at me. Jeesh, male testosterone levels! I put a hand on his arm, and he relaxed a little. "Thank you Captain Becker and all the rest of you as well. I wasn't expecting you to come and see me. But thank you, I am flattered." I smiled shyly at the core team, and received grins in return. In particular, a wide smile from Emily.

Suddenly, one of the medics came in and sternly informed everyone that I needed rest and was not to be disturbed by loud people (that last statement was delivered alongside a very pointed glare at Penny). Hastily muttering their apologies, everyone wished me their goodbye's and Emily gave my hand a quick squeeze before she met Matt at the door.

Thatcher gave me a quick kiss before he left, and gave Becker a hard stare as he passed the other man. I was surprised when Becker was the last to leave actually, and I think it might have doubled when he turned back to me for a moment, "Lark, if I may, that bet that you made, what was the time period for it?" he asked, and I felt my eyes go wide.

"I...erm...we...yes...ahem...It ended...wait, what's the date?" I asked sheepishly. Becker raised his eyebrows and told me. I had been asleep for three days, and I deflated a little, but not too much. After all, I knew it was a long stretch he'd ever do it, let alone in a month. "It was the day before yesterday Becker."

The soldier said nothing for a minute, but then nodded his head slowly, "I guess you had better go and collect your prize then from the other maintenance workers Miss Sommerbush." he said with a smirk, before waltzing towards the exit. I was gobsmacked yes, but not gobsmacked enough to say something in reply.

"Does this means we're friends Becker?" I called out, just as he was about to walk out the door.

The Head of Security turned back and lifted one eyebrow sarcastically, giving me one of his signature smirks, "Absolutely not Miss Sommerbush."

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**A/N:** Would anyone like an epilogue? :)


	18. Epilogue: Jackpot

**A/N:** I have decided, due to popular demand, that an epilogue is needed for this story. Thank you so much for all your review for chapter 17! They were all so very lovely! :)

So, I hope you like the epilogue!

Enjoy! :)

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XVIII. Epilogue: Jackpot

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"Hurry up Thatcher! We're going to be late!" I yelled over my shoulder as I dashed down the hall, arms laden with bits and bobs. It was the first time in five years that the cleaners had been invited to the ARC end of year party, and I was more than keen.

Lester hadn't been all too enthusiastic on maintenance staff attending, but Jess had insisted (just as she had insisted he attend). I really did admire her. Of course, I would admire anyone who managed to get a certain Captain Hilary J. Becker wrapped around their little finger (ok, so I may have taken a quick peep in the files when I was dusting - but it was only on a strictly need-to-know basis).

"Come on Thatcher!" I sighed, taking a quick peep over my shoulder at...my boyfriend...yes, I could call him that now (if I were 'hip' I would say - 'like OMG yeah?' - but I'm not 'hip' so I won't - I'll just say - I hit the jackpot well and truly!). I couldn't help but smile. I had caught him in the act - rolling his eyes at me; immediately I stiffened my features, oh this would be fun.

I glared at him, "Thatcher Harding, did you just roll your eyes at me?" I questioned, keeping my smirk under control.

"Of course not dearie," he smiled sweetly, hoisting the box he was carrying higher in his arms, "Just admiring what a wonderful job we did cleaning in here yesterday - oh and by the way, I think you missed a spot on the roof."

I rolled my eyes. He really was incorrigible (of course I hadn't missed a spot - even on the roof!). I waited patiently as Thatcher ambled up to me. "Just because you're carrying a heavy box does not mean you can dawdle!" I sniffed, giving him a pointed look.

"Yes dear." He replied cockily, fixing two, laughing blue eyes on me, "Is that all you're going to do woman? Nag me? Jeesh, typical."

I narrowed my eyes at him, putting the smile that tugged at the corners of my mouth under wraps, "I might do just that if you call me woman again," I said in mock disapproval, "Or I might do something even more drastic and silence you, you fiend!"

It was his turn to raise an eyebrow as we placed our loads on one of the waiting tables, "Fiend eh? You dare to call me a fiend..." Thatcher growled huskily, as I stepped closer, a challenging look firmly in place, "...my woman?"

What could I do? He had to be silenced; and that man could talk through all but one thing.

"Really? In public!" Lester remarked dryly from the stairs when he noticed us standing in the middle of the room...snogging. Hastily we jerked apart, and blushed accordingly. He sighed in resignation, turning to walk back up into his office, "You see THIS is exactly why one does not invite maintenance staff to a company function."

At that moment, the hall doors opened and in came Becker and Jess. It just so happened however, that they had chosen that exact moment to give each other one of their stolen kisses (which they did when they thought no-one was watching). Lester took one look at them and stormed into his office. Muttering something about 'maintenance staff', 'hormonal teenagers', and 'not a dating agency'. The man really knows nothing about Christmas spirit. Bar Humbug to him too.

"Oh Lark! I'm so glad you're here!" Jess squealed happily, breaking away from her soldier boy when she saw us and coming over to give me a hug. She really was an excitable little thing. Becker followed at a more sedate pace, his face impassive. "I've got so much to do! Can you help me? You'll help me wont you? Oh this is going to be wonderful! I'm so excited!"

'Helping Jess' turned out to mean hanging decorations (much to Lester's disapproval) and arranging tables. Jess even managed to cajole Lester into hanging a disco ball from the roof (although he did ask "A disco ball?! What on earth for?!" before acquiescing), and my estimation of the small, colorful woman grew ever higher. Not only did she have Becker wrapped around her little finger, but Lester as well. She is truly brilliant.

Becker and Thatcher, fine specimens of the male species that they were, decided they would engage in a little 'friendly-and-supposedly-(NOT)-subtle competition'. This involved Becker grabbing a full, heavy box and hoisting it on his shoulder to carry across the room. This challenge was accepted by Thatcher, who decided to go one better and carry a table (by himself) across the room. Not to be outdone, Becker grabbed a ladder...and so it continued. I rolled my eyes at Jess and she smirked in reply. Some things never change.

We were soon joined by the rest of the cleaners and the ARC core team - all enlisted to help make this party a hit. Matt and Emily were happily hanging wreaths about the room, and John was in the corner, fiddling with the lights, a look of supreme concentration on his face (it really was a little disturbing how into it he was getting actually).

You didn't need to look to know where Connor and Abby were, you could hear them from a mile away, squabbling at the food tables. Let me give you a little sample of their conversation:

Abby: Connor! What do you think you're doing! You're not allowed to eat those! (grabs plate of chicken wings off him)

Connor: Awww c'mon Abby! It's just one, not a big deal! (Spots a tart) Oooo tarts! I haven't had one of these in ages! (Is about to bite into it, but notices Abby's disapproving glance) Erm...I guess I could...possibly...wait another half an hour?

Abby: Excellent decision Connor! (smiling smugly and turning to walk off and complete some other task)

Connor: (Follows her, but not before grabbing a lamington and quickly stuffing it in his mouth)

Do you see what I mean? Sometimes I couldn't help but wonder how she puts up with him. (Although I guess it was rather cute...if you like that sort of thing).

Another enjoyable couple to watch was Becker and Jess. It really was (again) cute watching them.

Becker would watch her silently, and then whisper something quietly to her. Jess would smile or laugh softly, a look of complete and utter adoration on her face. He would smile in reply, and for just a split second, his guard would fall, and he would look like the man he could have been - unravaged by death and killing. His mask would be up again a moment later, but I knew it was there all the same. It gave me hope (as cheesy as it may sound) that even the hardest of us could find something worth living for.

With a satisfied sigh, I plonked myself on the corner of a table and looked about the room. Another pair caught my eye, and this time, I sat up straighter. Penny and Marty were at the small christmas tree in the center of the room, putting up baubles and wasn't what interested me however, what did interest me was the way, when she tangled herself in the lights, Marty gently lifted them off her, laughing softly as he did so.

"Lark Marie Sommerbush, don't you dare even think about it!" A deep voice spoke up behind me and I turned to find Thatcher ambling towards me.

I smiled innocently at him, "I don't know what you mean Thatcher." I said smoothly, looking up at him as he stood next to me.

"You do so. And no, you will not be orchestrating an attempt to matchmake again - this time with Penny and Marty!" he said in mock-severity, however, the quirk at the corner of his lips gave him away, "It didn't work so well last time did it?"

"What are you talking about?" I sniffed depreciatingly, raising my eyebrow at my supermodel, "It worked perfectly last time!"

Thatcher snorted, slipping his arm about my waist and leaning his forehead against mine, "Liar." he whispered in my ear, a knowing smirk fixed on his features.

"I don't know what you mean!" I replied innocently, taking out a (rather ridiculous looking - I must admit) headband with horns on it, and putting it on. "How do I look?"

"You look like a freaky kind of reindeer, and I will be your dashing santa!" he said, wiggling his eyebrows for effect. The effect was highlighted by the large, glowing santa hat he had just placed on his head. Apart from looking completely goofy, it suited him quite well.

I could only laugh in reply. This was how exactly how everything should be. Everything was just right.

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**A/N: **There you go! That was well and truly the end of this story. I hope you enjoyed it! :)

However, I can't promise anything, but I was considering a sequel - if you agree, I'll take any prompts you have my lovely readers! After all, I do love hearing what you all think! :)

If not, of even if you're ambivalent, I would like to thank you for reading. I cannot say how happy it makes me to have so many people read and enjoy my work. Thank you.

~Aithion xx


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